


The Last Witness

by Keyshiano



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Body Dysphoria, Coercion, Crossdressing, Depressed Stiles, Discussion of Abortion, Emotionally Constipated Derek, Forced Orgasm, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Near Death Experience, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Object Penetration, Obsession, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Omegaverse, Past Underage, Perversion, Physical Abuse, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Not Between Main Pairing, Rape Recovery, Self-Harm, Sexual Violence, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7533151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keyshiano/pseuds/Keyshiano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hales have a new neighbor, but Stiles gets a weird feeling about him whenever he comes around. He can't seem to avoid him, though...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this universe, Stiles is an Omega. Which, like the usual tropes, is nothing like the ranking system in the actual show. It's a second gender. Omegas are not to be seen/compared to women, exactly (I don't want to seem sexist, but that's what the story calls for) but some Omegas, like Stiles in this case, are called Mom/Mother. Crossdressing is normal in this fic, and anything else you find else abnormal, you can chock it up to being an Omega.

Warm, early June. Saturday.

Stiles sighed, relaxed and tranquil while his three boys were out for the weekend, enjoying the state team’s baseball game. His dad, his wonderful husband and his newly vacationed son. The date was June 4th and Jamie (James), their son, was out of school and headed towards a brilliant summer, starting with the fresh age of six—officially a first-grader. Stiles, ever the one to be left out of sport events unless they were in the National Leagues, busied himself, stirring fresh lemonade and taste-testing to make sure it’d be right when done refrigerating. Humming to himself, he put the pitcher on the top shelf, something his mother taught him to do when making homemade beverages, and gently closed the cold appliance, wondering what else could keep him occupied while he awaited his family’s return. It was only around noon, but the boys had left early to avoid traffic, get good snacks and return to their seats before the crows could come in. _Alphas should always be prepared, Derek. Be prepared for your family_ , Stiles’s father would say.

Stiles decided it was time to catch up with his friends.

**_Phone call? >CB: Stiles –Stilinski-Hale_ **

It took few minutes for Lydia to respond back to his text.

**_Otp w/ Allison. 3-way? >CB: Lydia Martini_ **

Stiles laughed. Considering the fact that the two were always on the phone together, he didn’t even know why he didn’t anticipate the three-way calls.

**_U know it >CB: Stiles Stilinski-Hale_ **

Seconds later, Stiles’s new phone, courtesy of Derek, lit up with the face of Lydia.

“Hey, Lydia. Allison,” Stiles answered the phone with a smile in his voice. “Bored Omega over here. Send help.” _“Hey, Stiles!”_ Allison’s voice rang out, ever the schmoozer.

_"Hey, Mama Hale.”_   Lydia said with an amused conviction in her voice.  

Stiles huffed a laugh. The girls, along with Stiles, were eager when they found on that Derek and Stiles decided on trying for baby number two. Stiles fell pregnant with Jamie when he was only fifteen, spiraling into loads of stress caused by snarky stares from the average high-schooler that knew nothing before they decided to judge him, adults who gave his dad hell for letting an Alpha “use his Omega son like that,” and of course, the elders who had nothing else to gossip about. Stiles was only twenty-one. He adored children, as would any Omega, but after being teased and chastised for having a teenage pregnancy with an overage Alpha, he wanted to be low-key about future kids. Now, though, he was ready. He’d already missed some of his prime years for conceiving, but he thought now, this was the time to make up for it.

“Not a mama, yet, Lyds. Well, not a new mama. Jeez, we just told you about it last week.” Stiles paced as he talked, a habit that he aquired since childhood. “We haven’t even tried much, yet.” Stiles chuckled, somewhat embarrassed about sharing his sex life with anyone other than his Omega Specialist.

_“Stiles, you haven’t had sex with Derek in over a week? Why not? Did you smell his morning breath?”_ Allison joked, laughter causing her to accidently lean her face on one of the phone buttons.

“Allison, how are things with you and Scotty?” Stiles chided, playfully.

_“Things are fine, and the sex was_ great _this morning.” Allison teased._

_“Oh please, tell me more.”_  Lydia’s voice came through.

“OK, first of all, ew, Ally. Secondly, ew, Lyds,” Stiles stopped pacing, looking through the window seeing a black car circle around the block a few times before speeding off, “And thirdly. Derek… decided to wait at least five days before we tried again. He keeps his laptop on his…pelvic area a lot, and he wanted to restore his sperm count. Or something.” Stiles finished the last part quickly, face flushing when the two girls busted out laughing.

_“Stiles, you’re an Omega. You were born to do this. Alpha and Omega pairs have more of a chance of conception than others. In fact, have you heard of that big sperm and egg Bank Company? They’re helping gay dynamic couples conceive? But, anyway, you and Derek need some loving. Soon. Call us back after you’ve been dicked down_ really _good.”_

Stiles hung up to the sound of the girls laughing. Only fifteen minutes had passed and Stiles was feeling like a typical Omega. Stuck at home, making sweet, homemade juices, talking to his Beta friends about his Alpha’s future fetus. Stiles didn’t hate his dynamic, or even care about stereotypical rumors about Omegas. Most Omegas were adored, treasured, even. Unless, of course, they’ve been through a pregnancy during their freshman year of high-school and had to work their tired fathers out to take care of a baby that didn’t belong to them. Stiles was caught in his own world of reminiscing his time in high-school when the doorbell rang, startling him out of his thoughts. Stiles was still in his nightgown, planning to change after the lemonade was finished. Patting his gown down to buff out any wrinkles, he opened the door with a closed-mouth smile.

Standing there was a tall and broad-shouldered man. Obviously an Alpha. Smiling deviously down at Stiles who stood there, quite shyly. The Alpha stared at Stiles for several long seconds before Stiles spoke up. “Um…my Alpha isn’t available right now,” _Never tell someone that your Alpha isn’t home, just say that they’re not available_ , Stiles remembered his father telling him that after he presented as an Omega, “I’ll let him know you came as soon as he’s…ready,” Stiles stammered, not prepared for such a visitor.

 

Things were quiet, and Stiles was about to shut the door, when the Alpha straightened his posture and grated out a laugh. Stiles slightly bared his neck, something that was instinct to an Omega when they felt unsure about encounters with Alphas. The Alpha, tan and brown-eyed with a mustache and a manicured beard, cleared his throat before finally speaking. “I’m just a new neighbor. Moved here today, actually. Decided to greet everyone to help me get familiar with the neighborhood.”

 

Stiles internally sighed with relief, still wishing his Alpha was there, but no longer feeling as threatened. “Oh, that’s great. It’s a wonderful neighborhood, in my opinion. Hopefully you like it here. Which house did you move into?” Stiles asked cheerfully. The Alpha in question stammered a bit before answering.

 

“Actually, I moved in down the street, right behind this one,” he answered briskly.

 

Stiles didn’t mind meeting new neighbors, but his senses automatically perked up when he collected the new information. He studied the Alpha briefly, noting that he still hadn’t asked for a name. “Oh, that’s cool. We’re butt buddies,” he laughed, clearly his throat when the man gave him a solid and configuring look. “Your name is..?”

 

“Duncan,” he said, quickly, as if being falsely convicted of something, “Duncan Ortega.”

 

“Duncan. My favorite donut place,” Stiles joked, pleased when the laugh emitted from the man signaled that he understood the pun. “So, uh, what are you doing on this street?”

 

Duncan leaned on the door, causing it to open wider than Stiles was comfortable with. Stiles wasn’t tall, as most in his dynamic weren’t. Only 5’6”. Duncan had to be at least 6’3” and could easily see over Stiles’s head and into the house. The Hale house was large and had the nickname of, “The Hale Mansion.” Derek was an attorney, and worked hard for his earnings in order to support his family. Their house was easily the biggest around for miles, and even though Duncan was nowhere close to seeing every room, his eyes branched off to look inside from time to time. Stiles was still not convinced, so he subtly attempted to step on his tippy-toes.

 

“I just happened to be driving around the streets on this pretty day. I saw your gorgeous, little face in the window, and had to pay my dues.” Stiles’s eyes widened and he thought back to when he was pacing on the phone near the window, blinds and curtains open because it _was_ a perfectly sunny day. Suddenly, the fact that he was still wearing his nightgown made him feel even tenser. “Oh. Thank you…” Stiles trailed off, because what could he say to that? It was typical for his kind to be complimented in such ways, but for the Alpha to outright say something like that after knowing Stiles had his own was strange. He had a hankering to pull the collar of his gown down to show his mating bite—to show that he was already _taken_ —but he didn’t want Duncan to see any more than he needed to.

 

“Looks like my Alpha is calling,” Stiles said skittishly, “I have to go back insi—”

 

“I didn’t hear anything,” Duncan retorted and stuck his finger in his ear as if to clean out anything that was blocking him from hearing. I know I’m getting older, but I don’t think I’m going deaf, quite yet. I’m not even sure if werewolves _can_ go deaf.”

 

Stiles’s mouth gaped open and his eyes grew large. An Alpha-Were.

 

“You know, you have the most beautiful eyes. I’ve seen a lot of Omegas, but never any with eyes like yours. Bright and big, like molten gold.” Blushing at the praise, Stiles knew it was time for him to conclude the conversation with Duncan.

 

“I’ll see you around, Duncan.” Stiles said quickly, and shut the door, being sure not to slam is as not to threaten the Alpha. He locked the door, as well as checking the locks on the other doors that lead to outside, also deciding to close the blinds and curtains downstairs to ensure his safety. His heart beat loudly when he peeked through the curtains and saw the same black car from earlier.

 

**_Come over now. Please. >CB: Stiles Stilinski-Hale_ **

 

He texted Scott, his best friend and trustworthy Alpha, and prayed to whoever was listening that he’d answer quickly. Few minutes passed before he received a text back.

 

**_Sure..im down the street anyway. >CB:Scottie McHottie_ **

 

Stiles sighed and busied himself with one of his favorite shows. _Beta Tested_ , a talk show hosted by a Beta to speak about Alpha and Omega issues and gossip without seeming biased. The conversation today was about whether Alphas should be allowed to help other Omegas—besides their own mates—with their heats. Stiles chewed his lip nervously and jumped when the doorbell rang. He could tell it was Scott, because he heard Allison, too. Even so, he checked through the peephole. Crystal clear, as Derek made sure to install certain fiber glass that wouldn’t allow staining. _Derek, just because we have the money to do things, doesn’t mean we should do them…new installation for the glass for a peephole? Really?_ Stiles opened the door and immediately pulled the Alpha and the Beta in, making sure to re-lock the locks.

 

“Woah, Stiles, what’s going on?” Scott asked, brow furrowed when he sensed the distress emitting from the Omega. Allison looked faintly concerned, too, probably less than Scott because they’d talked earlier on the phone that day.

 

“…I don’t know,” Stiles lied. “I just—I’m lonely without my family here. You guys are the next best thing.”

 

“Jeez, I feel honored,” Scott joked, feeling more light-hearted knowing what was bothering his best friend. Stiles just stared at him with wide, worrying eyes. “Sleep over party?” Stiles asked bashfully, biting his lip and smiling, already feeling better. He was probably worrying for nothing.

 

 

The sleepover was fun, and Lydia, Jackson, Erica, Boyd and Isaac ended up coming, too. It wasn’t exactly a party, but nonetheless, it was refreshing to get to hang out with everyone once again. Erica, being herself, brought several interactive games that simulated sports and dancing. By the time they all decided to calm down and call for pizza delivery, Stiles was extremely sweaty—more so than Omegas usually get, and the others seemed to notice, too. After getting several asshole-ish comments from Jackson claiming that he smelled and looked sweaty, Stiles went upstairs to take a quick shower. Stepping into the shower, Stiles made sure to bath his self with a subtle fragrance. He washed his hair, which was long, dark and thick, curling at the ends. Derek loved Stiles’s hair when it wasn’t so spikey, and Stiles did anything to try to please him, thus Stiles wore his hair with a bang in the front—how it fell naturally, without any gel. Turning off the shower as he finished, he stepped out and dried his feet before stepping into his shower slippers. He was a very lush Omega, and despite being rich, he wouldn’t have it any other way. There was an en-suite bathroom in almost every bedroom in the house, and the master bedroom—Stiles and Derek’s—was no different. Stepping out of the bathroom, Stiles laid his drying-off towel down, and got his phone out. The iPhone 6s Plus Derek bought for him was different from all the other Androids he’d ever owned, but Stiles found a way to work it, eventually. Putting a touch of lip-balm on his already-pink and plump lips, Stiles posed naked for his phone camera, taking several intimate photos for Derek’s viewing pleasure. Beauty marks littered the Omega’s body. There were hardly any places where less than three of them were found. Derek absolutely loved Stiles’s beauty marks, and was please to know that he was the only one who’s ever seen _all_ of them.  After taking a good amount of pictures to select from, Stiles picked out a pair of sexy—but not _too_ sexy—panties and a matching bra. It wasn’t atypical for male Omegas to wear effeminate clothes. It was unheard of for even the most masculine Omegas to not own some form of women’s lingerie. Not that stereotypical clothes were a big deal in the Omega community. People only cared about what the Alphas wore, and sometimes fussed over the Betas.

 

Stiles was feeling risky, and he straddled one of Derek’s pillows that he usually slept on for the next round of pictures. Stiles was wearing petite, frilly, pale yellow panties with a bra just thin enough to show his pointed nipples if he were to get cold. After reviewing both the naked set of pictures and the set with just his undergarments, Stiles either deleted or saved whichever ones he deemed acceptable.

 

**To Derbear:  
[Photo Attached]**

**Riding your pillow while the pack is downstairs ;) Miss u <3**

**> CB: Stiles Stilinski-Hale **

He sent the ones with him on Derek’s pillow.

 

**To Derbear:  
[4 Photos Attached]**

**> CB: Stiles Stilinski-Hale**

 

He sent the naked photos without caption.

 

He decided to put on some blue and white shorts and a white spaghetti-strap for pajamas, not feeling uncomfortable with his wardrobe around his pack. Upon pulling up his shorts, he noticed that the blinds to their bedroom window were still open, although it was fairly late. Walking towards them to properly shut them, he saw the curtains from the house across jerk shut. He stared for a moment, before deciding that it was nothing, for his own good health.

 

Walking back downstairs, he saw Lydia and Jackson making out on the loveseat.

 

“Hey, no, stop. If I don’t get to make out with my mate, no one does,” Stiles said, jokingly, yet equally as disgusted, “Where did everyone go?”

 

“They went to take showers so they didn’t end up smelling as bad as you did. God, Stilinski, I’ve never smelled an Omega get that…smelly.”

_Stilinski-Hale,_ Stiles thought.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes at Jackson. “That’s because I’m all pent up and my pheromones are taking over my body,” he scoffed. Stiles heard one of the many showers in his house running, indicating that either Allison and Scott or Erica and Boyd were occupying it. After everyone got out of the shower, Boyd and Erica decided it was time to say goodnight, and retreated back into their respective guest room. Allison and Lydia wanted to watch a chick flick, so they also went to another room. Meanwhile, Scott and Jackson stayed with Stiles in the spacious living room.

 

“You should be in there watching _Dear John_ with them,” Jackson belched out, nursing a Bud Light.

 

“Be quiet, Beta.” Scott defended, then winked at Stiles from the other side of the couch. Jackson rolled his eyes, and turned back to the TV. _Star Trek_ was on. Not better than _Star Wars_ , but it’d do. The three ended up falling asleep in the living room while the girls cried over the movie.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Derek Hale was enjoying the view of the grand outdoors from their hotel room. It was night time, and they’d just got back from one of the best baseball games of the season, by far. He enjoyed spending the day with his in-law and his son, Jamie. As an Alpha, it was good for him to be away from his Omega to bond with his child alone. The game was over, though, and it was getting later into the day. Jamie was sunburned, skin red and ready to get some relief in the hotel pool, while Derek retreated back to his own hotel room to relax. They stayed at a fine, five-star hotel, nothing less than expected from Derek Hale. It had several floors and excellent customer service. The two Alphas decided to stay in separate bedrooms. Jamie and his Grandfather in one room, while Derek stayed in another. They were across from each other, but John decided that if Derek need some “alone time with Stiles” via Skype, or whatever, he should be in a different room. Derek nodded at the idea. The sheriff and Jamie were down in the indoor pool lounging area, but Derek was ready to take a shower and a nap, maybe even turn in for the night. They’d eaten plenty at the game’s concession stands, catching several hotdogs that were launched at them. Not the usual route of food Derek went for, unhealthy as hotdogs may be, but everyone who goes to a baseball game needed a fresh hotdog, he thought, though he preferred to give his family fresh fruits and vegetables, hardy meats with plenty of protein, and possibly some desserts afterwards.

 

 He looked at his phone and saw a text from Stiles, in which read that he was having a faux slumber party with the pack because he was lonely. Derek didn’t mind. He trusted his pack to protect Stiles and not mess up their house. Stiles was the only Omega in the pack, and they took great pride in defending and protecting him at whatever intense. Derek texted back his ‘OK’ to Stiles, and stepped into the shower, bringing his phone and speaker in with him. He felt a bit disconnected, usually taking showers with Stiles and missing the feeling of scrubbing down his Omega, but just when he started to dread the feeling, his music died down and his phone beeped to indicate that he got a notification. He decided to put it off until he got out the shower.

 

About fifteen minutes later, Derek toweled himself off, blessing the shower head’s amazing pressure for relieving any back irritation he had from sitting down for so long. He stepped into a pair of fresh pair of briefs, fitting snuggly against his skin. He turned on the Samsung TV—a nice, pristine flat-screen—and saw that _Friends_ was on, a show he and Stiles always let play until they’d fall asleep. He picked up his phone, ready to do some late-night web surfing, checking his business portfolios and his personal networks. When pressing the home button on his, he noticed that there were unread messages he forgot about when taking a shower. He saw that that were from Stiles. Derek went from smiling wide with squinted eyes, to mouth gaping and wide eyes. Stiles had sent him— _“Don’t call them ‘nudes’, Der, you’re not hip enough,”_ —naked pictures, a rare treat he got occasionally when going out on business trips.

 

Stiles was dripping wet from head to toe. His thick, dark hair was mussed up, as if to indicate Stiles toweled it down—he hated it when his hair dripped everywhere. Stiles wasn’t smiling in the picture. He was biting his pink and plump bottom lip with his perfectly straight teeth, eyelids hooded and topped-off by thick, arched eyebrows. Stiles’s breasts weren’t large—as most male Omegas weren’t—but they were a handful, enough to fit in a training bra. His chest was puffed out proudly and his nipples were flesh-colored puffy, as they always seemed to be. Stiles’s heat wasn’t until the end of every month, but he sure looked like he was going into it. Derek was so damn _grateful_ for Stiles’s natural beauty. Many Betas tried to achieve the ethereal look Omegas had through plastic surgeries and expensive beauty products. Going to the next picture, Stiles seemed to go down lower, showing off his milky-flat belly, something Stiles’s high metabolism helped maintain. The last naked picture was of Stiles sitting with his legs tucked under him, showing off his little cock that was a characteristic of many Omegas. It was pink at the tip. Stiles wasn’t hard in the picture, but he always seemed to be blushing there. Two more pictures came in, this time, Stiles was covered, but just barely. He had on frilly French vanilla colored bra with matching panties. The pose, though, was what made Derek get up and grab the Omega toy out of his bag. Stiles was straddled on the main pillow he slept on, the first picture showing him in the position, and the second and last picture showing the wet spot he left on the pillow case, probably enough to seep through to the actual pillow.

The Omega toy was a sex toy picked out from an Alpha-Omega store. It was basically a flesh jack. It came with a tiny bottle. The bottom was for the Omega to gather slick in. The bottle was to be distributed at the top of the flesh jack, producing the slick when in use, as if to simulate actual fucking. Stiles packed two of the small bottles for Derek to use, and when the Alpha unscrewed one, he groaned in satisfaction. He used the pictures to stimulate his erection, his own large dick dripping in eagerness at the thought of Stiles.

He was _very_ happy they decided on separate rooms. Even though their son hadn’t shown many werewolf capabilities, he didn’t want to risk being heard. When he came, he groaned out loud, cleaned himself up and texted Stiles his appreciation.

He went to sleep especially sated.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After everyone had woken up and eaten breakfast, they decided it was time to leave, again, Stiles was alone.

_If you need any help with anything, just give us a call, Stiles._ Allison had said while walking out of the door to leave.

_I’ll be fine, Ally. Derek is going to be home later on tonight._ Of course Stiles was exciting for Jamie coming home, too, but he wanted Allison to get off his back with the assurance of an Alpha presence

Stiles didn’t want to be stuck in the house like yesterday, and planned to head out and enjoy himself while his family was away for the time being. He checked the temperature and saw that it was saw that it’d be over triple digits today in Northern California, so jeans were out of the question. He went to his closet and skimmed through the many dressed he owned. He didn’t want to dress _too_ “up,” but he wanted to look good walking around the neighborhood. He decided on a subtle orange sundress, not to fancy—no designs—but enough to show off his curves and a slit of his leg. The dress was fitted enough to show the crater of his belly button. Next, Stiles slid on some sandals He kept the curtains closed as to retain the cool air from the shade in the house before he left for his stroll. He didn’t exactly have a destination in mind, but figured it’d be nice to stop by the diners he’d always visit as a child and when he was pregnant and craving. It was early, a Sunday morning. There weren’t many clouds, but the few that were out were big, fluffy cumulous ones, shading the sun and bringing temporary relief every time it did. The sun did feel good on his skin, and he was likely to return home sun kissed. He was humming, smiling at the people passing by and ignoring the catcalls he received when walking around the boulevard. Omegas were biologically weaker than their Alpha and Beta counterparts, so Stiles made sure to carry some kind of protection with him whenever alone. He felt a sharp squeeze on his ass that made him yelp and turn around, smacking assailant—which, in reality probably didn’t cause much pain to Duncan because he was an Alpha and—

Wait, _Duncan?!_

“What in the _hell_ is wrong with you? You think going around grabbing peoples’ asses is funny?!” Stiles shrieked when Duncan’s shoulders shook with laughter.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” more laughter, “I just couldn’t help myself, I do that to many of my friends. I forgot that it’s a different world up here—California. I really am sorry. I meant no harm by it.”

Stiles stared at Duncan with wide eyes and a stern face. “Well…as long as you never do it again. I’m sorry I slapped you. Must be embarrassing, being an Alpha and getting smacked in public by an Omega.”

“Oh, you slapped me? I thought it was the wind.” Duncan joked.

“Hey,” Stiles retorted with a friendly pushed at Duncan’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to go for a bite to eat at the diner down the street. I haven’t really had the time to go to the grocery store.”

Stiles bit his lip, thinking if it was the right thing to do, before asking Duncan if he wanted to tag along with him.

“I was just about to go to The French Laundry down the street. They have the best bread you could ever imagine. It’s pretty expensive, though. We can go together…if you want,” Stiles said bashfully, making sure his voice provided a friendly-tone and not a flirty one.

Duncan gave out a small smile. “Just lead the way.”

Stiles nodded, the diner was three blocks away, but Stiles could use the walk. Duncan strayed behind Stiles, claiming that he was in a busy text conversation and that he’d be right behind him. Stiles swore he could hear the shutter snaps of a camera, but when he looked back, Duncan just gave him a big smile and a thumbs up gesture.

When they arrived at the diner, they sat in a two-person booth. Stiles asked many question that he was interested in, and they fell into casual conversation. The food was absolutely wonderful. They traded numbers, and by the time they were full and had walked the calories off, they were back at the Hale residence. “That was pretty enjoyable. Better than I expected,” Stiles said, wiping the sticky sweat forming above his eyebrows.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be able to have fun,” Duncan playfully asked, walking Stiles to the porch.

“I just never know what to expect when I’m out with another Alpha. My Alpha, Derek, he usually gets super jealous, so I don’t really go out too much without him, you know? It was…fun,” Stiles laughed at his repeated adjective. “He’s been at a baseball game with our son and my father this weekend. It’s been pretty lonely.”

Duncan seemed interested at that. “So he wasn’t here when I came by yesterday,” he asked off-handedly.

Stiles swallowed a bit, cursing himself mentally. “Well, no. But they’re coming back later on tonight,” Stiles responded, still a bit nervous from the admission.

“Well, Stiles, we wouldn’t want a jealous Alpha on our hands, would we?” Duncan asked with a dark glint in his eyes.

“Nope. No jealous Alphas for Stiles,” Stiles stammered, digging for his keys in the small pocketbook he brought.

Stiles had just recovered his key when Duncan lifted his chin. Stiles, doe eyes wide and frozen in place, stood as the Alpha wiped a crumb from the corner of his lip with his thumb, and sucked it into his mouth.

“You were right. The bread was _delicious_.” Duncan said, and walked away with his hands in his pockets. Stiles’s breath picked up and he quickly went inside. He’d left his phone at home, and was relieved to receive the text from Derek saying they’d be back by evening. He decided to take a shower so he could be fresh for his Alpha.

_And get Duncan’s stink off of him._

 

 

* * *

 

After John was dropped off back at home, Derek headed to his own home with Jamie asleep in the back seat. He pulled in the driveway, clicking the garage remote so it’d be open when he arrived. He breathed in the fresh smell of the garage and carried Jamie into the house. The home alarm system, which announced an entry from the garage door, sounded, and Derek quickly typed in the code to silence it. The house was empty and warm—not temperature wise, more like a feeling. There were several rooms in the house on the bottom floor, and Derek couldn’t sense Stiles in any of them, so he went upstairs. Passing the guest rooms, Derek went into Jamie’s bedroom to change him into his pajamas. He ruffled his hair before exiting.

Jamie showed several signs of Alpha dependency, so Derek was sure he was either an Omega, like Stiles or a Beta.

Walking further down the hall to his and Stiles’s bedroom, he slowly opened the door, as to surprise Stiles. He was ambushed, quickly recovering when Stiles jumped into his arms and starting scenting him. Derek received several face-smashing kisses on the mouth, leaving a sweet scent behind.  
“I see that I was missed,” he laughed.

“Jamie?” Stiles asked, still clinging to Derek’s body.

“Asleep. He’s been out like a light since we started driving.”

“Perfect,” Stiles whispered, “you ready to make a baby, Daddy Hale?”

Stiles was hot, and Derek reached up to feel his cheeks, feeling like he somehow messed up Stiles’s heat date. He hadn’t realized that he asked aloud.

“Not in heat. I just missed you.”

“Stiles, it’s late and Sunday night. I’ve been gone all weekend, babe. Can’t we just go to sleep? I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

Stiles’s face turned upside down in a frown and he was off of Derek in seconds. “Fine.”

Derek grabbed his overnight bag and put it under the settee at the end of their bed. Stiles had already showered up, so he tucked himself in the covers of the bed. It was hot tonight, being so near to summer, but the house was always cold at night to make sure Derek didn’t overheat. Stiles didn’t mind, because Derek was usually the Big Spoon, making it warm.

 

* * *

 

 

The Omega couldn’t hide the fact that he was a bit disappointed that they couldn’t make love that night, but he understood. Derek went into the bathroom to brush his teeth for the night while Stiles flicked through channels on the TV. He stopped clicking when he received a text on his cellphone.

**_[1 Photo Attached] >CB: Duncan Ortega_ **

Stiles’s hummed to himself, somewhat forgetting that they’d exchanged numbers earlier today. His eyes widened and he gasped loudly when he opened the picture message. It was a picture of Duncan with his pants pulled down holding himself. Stiles’s throat remained dry no matter how many times he swallowed, immediately deleting the picture from his messages.

_He felt…aroused. But only because he was so pent up!_

“What happened, babe?” Derek called, peaking out of the bathroom, wiping facial cleanser from his face. He sniffed the air in a wolf-like fashion.

“Just saw Chris Evans on TV…he looked really good, sorry.” Stiles lied, thankful when Derek walked back into their en suite. He glanced at his phone again, seeing another text from Ducan.

_Should I open it?_

Tapping the ‘open’ button, the text read.

**_Stiles! I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to send that! –Duncan_ **

Stiles ignored the text and turned his phone off, waiting for Derek to join him in bed.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part 1 of 2 (The chapter is in 2 parts, which is why it's shorter than the last). I put them in two seperate parts because the transition would be weird if I didn't.

A little over a week passed before Stiles encountered Duncan again.

Ignoring his texts was hard, considering Duncan apologized for sending the picture, but Stiles couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable speaking to him. Duncan texted him at least fifteen times in to past week, to no avail. Derek was suspicious, but chocked it up to Stiles’s PHS. Pre- Heat Syndrome.

 

Stiles was walking with Jamie to the park, something he always enjoyed doing. The day was cool and evening was coming, settling a nice breeze with a beautiful pinkish skyline background. Jamie clung more to his mother than he did to Derek. They had a special bond between them, and Stiles couldn’t wait to give him another sibling. Jamie wandered off to play with some other kids on the jungle gym, with Stiles’s warning to be careful trailing behind. He was wearing another dress, shorter than the sundress his wore last week, but less busy and distracting. He was taking subtle selfies, not being overdramatic with them in public, but he wanted something to post on Facebook that showed how much he was enjoying his day. He was in the frame of the picture when another he saw another figure about behind him. Turning around, he saw that it was Duncan.

“Duncan!” He expressed, standing up quickly. “What—what are you doing here?”

Duncan’s expression wasn’t a happy one. “Oh, I just saw you from across the street. Decided to visit my little Omega Ortega, you know?” He said, voice heavy with blatant anger and accent thick. “You haven’t been answering any of my texts?” He asked loud enough that it caused some parents’ heads to turn.

“Duncan…I’m mated. I stopped answering your texts for this exact reason. I’m sorry, but you make me uncomfortable. This really isn’t an appropriate time; I’m with my six-year-old son.” Stiles seethed.

“Mommy!” Jamie called out and ran towards Stiles. Jamie was almost an exact replica of Stiles, same chubby face he had when he was a young child, same nose and same brown eyes. “Who is this man? Is it one of Daddy’s friends? I’m Jamie!” He said excitedly.

“Yeah, I’m your parents’ friend,” Duncan bent down to meet Jamie’s eyes. He took a seat on the bench, motioning for Stiles to join him while Stiles sported a concerned look. Jamie babbled on, telling Duncan things about how cool Derek was and the like. Stiles felt something massaging his thigh and looked down to see Duncan’s hand rubbing it. He tried to push his hand away without causing a scene, but Duncan’s hand tighten around it, pressing sharp nails into it. Stiles squeaked in pain and stood up, grabbing Jamie’s hand and scurrying quickly away.

“Bye, Jamie!” Duncan sneered.

 

“Jamie, don’t _ever_   talk to that man if you see him again,” Stiles warned. Jamie just looked at him with big eyes and nodded.

Stiles was honest to God afraid. He’s never experienced someone so infatuated with him, and he didn’t know whether it was even something to worry about. He’d be damned if he were to let his son get involved, though. He’d definitely be telling Derek about it tonight. The encounters, the gestures, the texts.  

Stiles’s heat was expected to crest by the end of the month, and he didn’t want Duncan Ortega’s actions to damper his excitement for it. He and Derek, _finally_ trying for Baby #2.

“Can we go to McDonald’s, Mommy?” Jamie’s voice interrupted Stiles’s thoughts. He sighed. McDonald’s was a while away and he really wanted to get home. It was getting late, and he didn’t need any more weird encounters or the risk of walking in the dark.

“I’ll make you chicken nuggets and curly fries when we get home, Munchkin, ok? Daddy doesn’t like it when we eat fast food, remember? Wolves need fresh food.”

Jamie nodded solemnly, sad that his time outside was cut so short and that he couldn’t eat what he wanted. Stiles ran his fingers through his son’s hair fondly and held his hand as they continued to walk home.

Entering the house, Stiles smiled, smelling that dinner was already made. Derek was in the living room watching a football game on TV, keeping track of the food through sight and scent. He walked up to Stiles when he saw them walk in.

“Hey, babe,” Derek said, kissing him hard before Stiles pushed him away with a stern eye, tilting his head sharply to indicate that the kiss was too much with Jamie in the room.

“Hi, Papa Bear!” Jamie shouted while running into the kitchen to see what was for dinner.

Stiles sniffed the air and heard the food crackling. “You’re _actually_ frying food?”

Derek was notorious for making fresh and colorful dinners consisting of only baked, white meats and several vegetables. Derek never fries food. Derek usually doesn’t _cook._

“Heat is coming up soon.” Derek said with a glint in his eyes. “Need to fatten you up.”

“Aw, baby. You’re so good to me,” Stiles said pinching his cheek and walking into the kitchen to make sure Jamie didn’t get hurt while in there alone. He looked down into the pots and pans and saw that Derek was making fried fish—whiting—with creamy garlic pasta and green beans.

“It’ll be done in about twenty minutes.” Jamie whined upon hearing that.

Stiles frowned. “He’s hungry and upset. We decided to cut our park trip short, as you can see.” Stiles went into their large pantry to get Jamie some granola and oats to settle him for a while. Jamie gratefully accepted the snack. “Five minutes, Jamie. Then we’re going to get in the bathtub, ‘kay?” It wasn’t uncommon for Jamie and Stiles to bathe together. It was quicker, because Stiles got to wash Jamie instead of him taking half an hour to wash himself.

“”Kay, Mommy.” Jamie responded with a full mouth. Jamie’s behavior and personality mirrored Stiles’s as a child. Stiles was almost positive that he’d present as an Omega when he reached the age to, but he didn’t want to push it. When Derek deemed that Jamie’d  had enough of his before-dinner snack, Stiles picked him up and took them to his bathroom.

“Did you have fun today?” Stiles asked Jamie, undressing him and pouring bubbles in the warm water he’d started.

“Yeah.” Was all Jamie replied back. Sometimes he was short-spoken. Stiles hoped and prayed that it was a sign that he didn’t inherit the ADHD he’d been was cursed with.

Stiles undressed his self as Jamie climbed the tiny, tiled stairs leading to the bathtub. The water was relaxing, and Jamie played with the empty shampoo bottles.

“Want me to wash your hair?” He asked.

“Can I wash _your_ hair?” Jamie replied.

“Not tonight, baby. But, c’mon, turn around.”  
Jamie turned his body so that his back was facing his mother. Stiles wet his hair, and then poured a bit of dull smelling shampoo in his hair, a kind that wouldn’t irritate his or Derek’s noses. “Hey, Jamie?” Stiles said after a while.

“Yeah?” Jamie turned to look at him with wide, brown eyes.  
“Let’s not mention that man we saw at the park to Papa.” He whispered.

 

After toweling off, Stiles and Jamie treaded back downstairs. Dinner was set at the table and Derek was washing his hands. The plates looked beautiful, and Stiles couldn’t help but snap a picture and send it to Lydia.

**_[1 Photo Attached]_ **

**_My Alpha loves me. >CB: Stiles Stilinski-Hale_ **

“Jamie, do you wanna eat in front of the TV tonight?”  
Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles and gave him a look.

“What? My heat food, my heat rules.” He said, and smirked at his phone when Lydia replied back to him.

After dinner was done and Jamie was put down for sleep, Derek and Stiles got in bed. Stiles’s heat would arrive later in the week, and Derek already called in to take the week off, as well as calling John and Melissa so they could watch Jamie later on. Now, though, they just wanted to be slow.

 

The lights were off, but they could see everything. Derek picked Stiles up from his bottom and laid Stiles down carefully yet with a firm grip. He kissed Stiles slowly, from his neck to the bottom of his chin and finally to his lips. Their tongues were sliding against each other slickly as they swapped spit. Derek climbed onto Stiles, straddling his pelvic region while on his elbows with his ass in the air. Stiles was underneath, his legs trapped under Derek. He was left panting as Derek sucked on his ear, trying to quiet his moans as Derek continued to attacked his sensitive area.

“Baby,” Stiles groaned, breathless. Stiles noticed a change in temperature, and he opened his eyes to see Derek unbuttoning his night gown. He lifted up so that he could help Derek take it off. Stiles wasn’t wearing any panties underneath his gown, and he blushed.

“My beautiful Omega,” Derek groaned as he looked at Stiles’s tiny, pink cock, dribbling perfect, pearly beads of precum. Derek was already undressed. He went to the end of the bed and dragged Stiles with him. Stiles’s breath picked up when he felt the wetness that was previously under his ass, on his back. His back arched when he felt Derek’s tongue in his hole.

“Derek, baby, get up here,” he said. Derek cocked an eyebrow, but complied. Stiles got up and looked at Derek’s body. He shivered and climbed back on the bed. Derek’s beard was wet with slick, and Stiles rubbed his shoulders as to prepare him for whatever was coming next.

“You ready for me, baby?’’ Stiles asked.

“Mhmm,” Derek groaned. Derek wasn’t one to be very vocal during sex, especially when his pup was in the house.

Stiles, though, was a different story. He straddled Derek’s face and lowered down.

Derek immediately grabbed onto Stiles’s hips with a tight grip and began to work his tongue through Stiles.

“Fuuuck,” Stiles moaned. This was his favorite part of foreplay with his Alpha. He felt so close and connected. They’d been doing this since Stiles was fifteen, and he couldn’t be happier with the man he chose to make a child with.

Slick was dripping out of Stiles steadily, and he palmed the tip of his cock while the other hand stayed on the headboard to steady himself. Omegas could have multiple orgasms, but Stiles wanted his first one to be while Derek was inside of him. He gently tapped Derek’s head to signal that he wanted to get off.

Derek was hard and big, and Stiles wanted to go down on him. Getting off of Derek's face, Stiles went to take care of his other regions. He sucked the tip of Derek's erection and swirled his tongue around the foreskin covering it, dipping it in and out rhythmically. Derek groaned and pushed Stiles’s head down to go deeper. Stiles moaned and the vibration went straight through Derek. Derek looked down and could see Stiles’s fingers working underneath him, opening his self. He kept going deeper and deeper until he gagged. Derek held him there as Stiles’s throat convulsed around him, choking him with it. Stiles slapped Derek’s thigh, out of breath. Derek finally released Stiles, and Stiles looked up at him through watery eyes. “You kinky asshole,” he said, and climbed on Derek’s lap and sunk down. Long strings of spit were still dangling from his mouth. 

Eyes widening, Derek let out a surprised moan as Stiles threw his head back. Stiles was a small Omega, he had to work his way down slowly. He felt Derek’s cock throbbing inside of his asshole, and it made slick squelch out of him. “Fuck, you’re gonna get it.” Derek rushed out, turning Stiles so that his back was on Derek’s chest, leg’s over Derek’s thighs.

Derek made slow, thorough thrusts inside of Stiles, and Stiles just held on for the ride. Little “ahn, ahn,” noises were being punched roughly out of Stiles with each bounce and just as Stiles was getting hang of the rhythm, Derek leaned on his back with his lower body at an angle, taking Stiles with him.

Stiles’s eyes rolled to the back of his head from the feeling of Derek hitting all the areas of his walls. “Ughn! Ughn! Ughnnn!” He moaned. Derek loved Stiles’s moans, loved hearing how Stiles fell apart while Derek was inside of him, loved hearing the high pitch of his voice crescendo.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ ” Stiles’s screams broke Derek out of his thought. He felt Stiles clench around him and moaned from the friction, thrusting harder. The headboard was slamming against the walls and the bed was squeaking slightly. Stiles wailed at a particularly hard thrust that struck directly to his prostate. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, _I’m gonna fucking cum!_ ” He screamed as he came hard in little spurts on his own belly, twitching and thrashing on Derek from the stimulation.

“Mmm…” Stiles hummed, pleasantly sated as Derek finished. Stiles disconnected his self from Derek and felt the cum run out of him. Derek post-coital was beautiful. He was sweaty and red and Stiles absolutely loved it.

“I love you so much, Derek.” He said, lifting up so Derek could wipe him clean.

“I love you, too, Stiles.” Derek said, and Stiles fell into a sleepy haze. He never did tell Derek about Duncan.

 

 

Stiles woke up pretty late. It was around lunch time, and the bed was cool. Stiles rubbed his eyes and got up. He was still naked, and he didn’t feel right walking around the house without bathing after sex. Something white caught his attention. It was a note.

 

“Hey, baby. I’m out with Jamie.

We’ll be back later on.

Love, your Alpha.”

 

Stiles smiled and kissed the paper. After getting out of the bathtub, Stiles decided to go grocery shopping to get some of his favorite heat food. Many Omegas preferred sweets and salty food with heat, but Derek preferred that he get fruits so as to stay hydrated. Upon entering his Jeep, he saw another note with a heart. Stiles looked at the note with confused interest, because Derek was never this emotional and he’s never left notes, but Stiles chocked it up to him being close to his heat. During a heat, both the Alpha and the Omega were more in tune with their emotions. It was cooler out, so Stiles was wearing Jeans and a T-shirt. He put the note in his pocket. At the store, Stiles went through the isles, getting things for the whole family, including his dad for when he had to watch Jamie, and also stopped by the maternity area, just to look.

“Pregnant already?” Stiles heard a voice behind him. He turned his head and saw…Duncan.

“How do you always seem to find me…” Stiles whispered.

“I guess coincidence?” Duncan said back smugly.

Stiles grabbed a few pregnancy tests to prepare for next week and began to walk out of the isle.

“Stiles, wait! Please.” Duncan yelled, causing a few others to look. Stiles stopped in his tracks and sighed a long, tired sigh. “What Duncan,” he said with evident aggravation, “what could you possibly want with me now?”

Duncan had the nerve to look guilty. “Look, Stiles. I know I come off as creepy and weird, but I’m honestly a shy guy and I’m just trying to find friends. It didn’t work out for me well before, but you seemed pretty open to friendship. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I swear I’m not following you.” Duncan ran a hand through his hair and began to look uncomfortable.

And Stiles, being the Omega that he was, was completely forgiving to Duncan. Stiles thought he was genuine in his apology.

“OK. It’s fine…I appreciate your apology. You should meet my husband, I’d think you two would get along well. Maybe become friends.”  
“Isn’t he out right now?” Duncan questioned. That made Stiles’s head snap up.

“Why do you think that?” Stiles was stuck between emotions, wondering if Duncan was as truthful as he was making himself out to be.

“Just a lucky guess. I swear. Here, I’ll walk you to the check out. They walked to the register together, both in line as Duncan had also bought a few things. Several tools and weird equipment was in his hand-held cart. Stiles decided not to be nosey and question it—ask later.

The cashier smiled at Stiles and Duncan. “Are you guys together?”

“No—”

“Yes! I’m buying everything.” The Alpha smiled at the cashier.

“Duncan, no you don’t have to—”

“Please, Stiles, it’s the least I can do. Think of it as an apology.”

Stiles bit his lip and stared at Duncan bellowing a shy ‘OK’.

When everything was checked out, and Duncan and Stiles separated their groceries, the walked off. “You two make a beautiful couple!” The cashier, a small teenage girl, shouted shyly.

Stiles didn’t know what to do, and didn’t want to explain, so he smiled uncomfortably with Duncan’s hand on his elbow. They were nearly to Stiles’s car when Duncan brought up the question again.

“So, pregnant?” He chided on, obviously too interested to forget.

“I’m not pregnant, but it’s my heat week, so…we’re hoping for the best.”

“Ah.” And that’s all Duncan said. “See you around!” And then he was gone. Finally.

  
Stiles had spent an hour and some change at the store, so when he got back, Derek and Jamie were home, automatically coming outside to help being the groceries in the house. Jamie was first to come out, carrying two bags “like a big boy!”

Derek and Stiles had just laughed as they watched him run into the house.

“I loved the little notes you left for me. Very traditionalist,” Stiles laughed, lifting several bags to compete with Derek.

“Ok, I’m sorry I didn’t shoot you a text. Jamie wanted to go for a run with me this morning. Don’t be mad.”  
At this, Stiles was confused. “No, seriously, I liked the notes you gave me. They were cute.”

Derek gave Stiles a weird look. “Stiles, I didn’t write you any notes.”  
Stiles dropped the eggs on the ground.

“Shit,” he cursed, getting on the ground to clean off the eggs that didn’t splatter on the tile floors of the kitchen.

“Babe, are you okay?” Derek asked with blatant concern. “What notes?”

Stiles thought for a minute, opened his mouth, then paused. “Nothing,” he said. “It must be heat brain.” Several things rushed through his mind as Derek laughed and brushed off the comment, leaving to get the last of the groceries. Stiles reached into his pocket and squeezed the paper note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally and completely did not proof read my smut scene. Thanks for being patient, all! Part 2 should be up tomorrow. (Where I'm currently located, that will be on Wednesday). Pray for Stiles. Also!! I know it may seem like Derek doesn't have many scenes. That will change! Along with some pack scenes, obviously. Please let me know of any and all grammatical errors. Don't be shy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't even yell at me. [p2 of Chapter 2] Each dynamic has their own restroom.

_Just walk down the hallway. Just walk to the lunchroom. Eat your lunch. Go back to class. Get the day over with. Repeat. Don’t listen to the commentators. Don’t stress yourself about your father’s job risk. Smile at whoever looks at you. Fake it until you make it. Stiles was in the bathroom giving himself a prep talk. Stiles was twenty-nine weeks pregnant and large. People stared everywhere he went. He was the talk of the entire schoo_ _l—_ _why, he didn’t know. Stiles had begun showing earlier than he’d liked. The doctor thought that he was carrying twins, but Jamie was just a big boy. He was three months in November, and when he returned from Thanksgiving Break, people made fun of him for gaining weight. Stiles laughed it off, pretending that he was still bloated from the food. He never denied anything, because no one suspected anything. Underage pregnancies were looked down upon in society, way worse for Omegas, though. “If your guardians can’t help you control your heats, then you should be sent to a facility.” That was then, when Stiles could hide under big sweaters and large jackets. Scott did his best to protect Stiles, but their schedules were complete polar opposites of each other. When Scott was on one side of the school, Stiles was on another. When Stiles was upstairs, Scott was downstairs, outside. Now, he couldn’t even fit in a single stall without feeling uncomfortably smothered._

_He walked out of the bathroom when he heard the rush of other Omegas entering, leaving their lunch block. Several of the girls talking began whispering when he unlocked the stall door, whispering and staring. He heard bouts of laughter as he left, knowing that the girls were talking about him. He couldn’t go into the cafeteria where everyone—including the lunch ladies would either talk about him or tease him. He’d had several parent-student meetings with the principal about his pregnancy. Beacon Hills was a small town, and Beacon Hills High was notorious its high-kept standards. Over two thousand students and staff had to fit in one high school, and Stiles was the only pregnant one. The principal, Dr. Thomas, was concerned for Stiles’s safety in the school. He’d discussed a program for expecting mothers another larger city offered. Of course they had declined. The sheriff was already working over, over time to help pay for the expenses of Jamie. They couldn’t afford to travel back and forth, and they definitely couldn’t afford to move. Then, homeschool was brought up. Stiles didn’t want to be homeschooled. His father didn’t trust him to be alone in the house. Not because Stiles was having sex without him knowing, but because Stiles wouldn’t tell him who the father was. Gossip was going around._

_“Poor Sheriff. I knew that Omega of his would have a tough time growing up without his mother, and now look at him.”_

_“No way can a Beta take care of a county when he can’t even control a wild child.”_

_  
“That Omega probably got pregnant to draw more attention to his self. He always was like that.”_

_Stiles decided to stay in public school and face the music. No amount of teasing would cause him to break. No one would dare to touch a pregnant Omega_ physically. _He answered questions people wanted to know. Natural or cesarean, cravings, nausea, sleeping patterns. He even let some people touch his belly. Going to the obstetrician once a week was tiring and time-consuming. It put a lot of strain and stress on everyone, including the baby. When the sheriff’s exhaustion became evident through his work, the deputies started a baby drive, where people were able to donate items to help out or pay for health expenses. Stiles had cried the day his father came home in his cruiser with boxes full of toys and clothes, and the sheriff had sat Stiles down on the porch steps and cried with him._

_Jamie’s nursery was situated in the guest bedroom that Stiles moved his belongings to. The room was filled with donations and furniture that they’d paid for out of pocket. Cribs and high-chairs, decals on the wall, and Stiles’s old blankets._

_Sometimes Stiles would wake up in the wee hours of the night, morning sickness taking over. He hated throwing up and would cry every instance that it happened. John would always be at work, providing more for Stiles and Jamie than his self, missing out on important meals and favorite television shows. Stiles would be spilling the last of his guts alone. But only for a while._

_Crouched on the bathroom floor, Stiles groaned as the few tears squeezing through fell. He felt a hand on his back, then two strong hands helping him to sit on his bottom. A glass of room temperature water caressed his lips, and he swallowed it and coughed. A few more silent seconds of sitting on the ceramic tiles before Stiles felt himself being lifted and carried through the hallway and to Jamie’s nursery. He clutched onto the body holding him all the way to the twin bed set adjacent to the crib. The body curled up against him and gently stroked Stiles’s belly, full with their child._

_When Stiles woke in the morning, Derek was gone._

_Stiles walked the track as the rest of the class practiced soccer in the middle of the field._

_“I don’t know why they’re making me make_ you _walk, Bilinski. If anything, you could use your bigger belly to bounce the ball off of!” Coach Finstock yelled from the other side as Stiles paced._

_“Because, if that ball hits me, we’re suing the school!” Stiles yelled back. A few others laughed._

_Later at lunch, Stiles was out on the bleachers, once again avoiding the cafeteria and annoying Omega bitches that always seemed to want to use the restroom when he was meant to eat there._

_He had a brown paper bag with a ham and cheese sandwich stuffed inside, along with some healthy snacks Melissa McCall made for him. Scott had skipped class in order to eat with Stiles for once, enjoying the partly cloudy day._

_“You smell like a wolf.” Scott observed, and said nothing else. He wasn’t even looking at Stiles._

_“I do? Hm.” Stiles chatted back, acting oblivious._

_“Yeah. Right here,” Scott pointed to his belly. Stiles continued to eat. He knew that Scott knew about Derek. “Well, we knew that would happen,” Stiles sighed and rubbed his stomach when he felt the baby kick. He rested his head on Scott’s shoulder and just listened for a while._

_That’s when everything went to hell._

_“Look at this little slut,” Stiles heard. He opened his eyes to see Garrett, a jock Alpha who was always getting in shit he didn’t belong in. “Is he the one who put the baby in you? McCall? You couldn’t have done better than Scott McCall?”_

_“Let’s get out of here, Scott,” Stiles muttered, wrapping up his lunch and waddling off of the bleachers._

_“I asked you a question, whore,” Garrett yelled._

_A few seconds later, Stiles found himself on his hands and knees, on sharp rocks and dirt. He breathed in and out. ‘I’m not hurt. I’m fine, Jamie is fine,’ he thought._

_“If you ever touch my Omega again, I will rip your fucking throat out, with my teeth. GO!”_

_Well, that wasn’t Scott._

Stiles awoke with a start. It was still early in the morning and he could feel Derek’s arms resting comfortably around him. He kissed his Alpha’s knuckles and unraveled his self. Being so close to heat always gave him vivid dreams. He’d have to drop Jamie off at his dad’s soon. With Jamie and Derek still asleep Stiles had time to go out and get breakfast. He texted Lydia and invited her to Sweetpeas, a breakfast buffet restaurant that Stiles could eat at and take some food home. He didn’t find any notes in his Jeep and he was…thankful.

Lydia and Stiles met up at Sweetpeas and hugged it out before sitting. They chose outdoor seating. It felt cool outside, and Stiles wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. The town was quiet except for the early cars going in for work. They talked for a while about the usual things. Family, friends and hobbies. Lydia was having a inapt discussion about her and Jackson, about him being an asshole and her thinking about moving on.  Apparently, she just noticed how much they argued. Stiles couldn’t help but zone out and think about everything going on right now. Even though he didn’t work, he had so much on his plate lately…with Duncan and all…

“Stiles?” Lydia asked. “You alright?” Lydia’s thin and naturally arched eyebrows were furrowed as she stared at him from above the come she was drinking out of.

“I’m hiding something from Derek,” he whisper-spoke.

Lydia slammed her glass on the table. “Tell me everything, Stilinski.”

 _Stilinski-Hale,_ Stiles thought.

“Well, there’s this other Alpha—” Stiles paused when Lydia’s eyebrow shot up and she gasped. “There’s this Alpha named Duncan…he’s—he just moved here, a house for sale behind ours. He always shows up where I am. I think he may be…stalking me? I don’t know. But I found something in my car. It was a note with a heart on it right on the console. Wasn’t Derek.”

“It’s probably nothing. You’re close to heat, yeah? In my dynamic studies course, we learned that being near or close to heat can cause strange hallucinations. You most likely wrote that note yourself. Besides, how would he even get in your Jeep?”

“Lydia,” Stiles sighed, leaning back into his chair, “you’re the smart one! You’re supposed to be telling me to call the police, or to tell Derek. Or to move to Alaska.” He muttered.

“Well! You can’t expect me to give you those answers when I’m telling you the statistics! It’s most likely all in your head. Obviously, if you really feel the need to tell Derek then you shou—”

“Thank you, that’s all I needed!” Stiles exclaimed, and got up from the table to go to the parking lot.

“You owe me fifteen bucks, Stilinski!” He heard Lydia in the distance.

 

Stiles parked, not even worrying about the garage, and quickly went into the house. “Derek!” He yelled. “Derek, are you awake?!” He ran up the many stairs just as Jamie was coming down. “Hi, sweetheart. Off to watch some cartoons?” He asked, gaining back the breath he lost from running. “Yes, Mommy.” Jamie responded, blanket wrapped around his tiny body as he continued to jump down many steps at once.

Stiles entered their room and heard the shower running. Slowing down in his tracks, he sat at the edge of the bed and thought about how he was going to present this information. Bring up his heat first so the Alpha could get flustered and then drop the bomb? Bring up Duncan and quickly skip to the baby they’re trying for? Just shout it and assure everything is fine? Not bring it up at all? Stop worrying over nothing like Lydia suggested? Relax, take Jamie to his dad’s house and then enjoy his heat?

“Stiles?”

Derek was behind him, wet and wrapped with an expensive towel that Stiles insisted was unnecessary. Stiles breathed out a heavy exhale and turned to face his husband.

“Derek, I gotta tell you something important.”

Derek dropped the towel from where his hands clutched the hems.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked softly, walking up to Stiles with gentle, excited eyes. “Babe, I woke up and saw you were gone. Lydia told me you were with her, but I didn’t expect this I couldn’t even smell—”

“Derek I’m not pregnant. At least I don’t think I am…” he trailed off. Patting the space on the bed next to him, he got in a more comprising position to have such a conversation in. “Derek, you love me, right?” Stiles gave Derek large puppy eyes and jutted out his lip a bit.

“Stiles, what’s going on?” Derek asked sternly.

“There’s this Alpha Were that I met, maybe a month ago and he lives in the house right behind us, he’s tall, obviously taller than me, his name is Duncan Ortega, he kind of came on to me, but he really wanted to be just friends, and we went to a diner together—but just as friends—and he sent me a nude photo of his self, but it was purely and accident and then he came up to me while I was at the park with Jamie that one time, remember that one time I came home with Jamie earlier than expected? Yeah, so that was that. And then when I woke up yesterday and told you about those notes that I found, you know, those notes I brought up that you didn’t write that I found on the night stand and in Roscoe, yeah, I don’t know how those got in there or in here, but I think I’m losing my mind. Also, when I went to the store yesterday, he was there and he apologized for acting weird and stuff and he just wants to fit in and stuff, so I told him that you two should be friends! Pretty great story, huh?” Stiles was wheezing by the time he was finished. Afraid to look at Derek’s expression, he turned his body away and pretended he was somewhere else.

“You sure it wasn’t Jamie who wrote the note?” Derek laughed.

“Derek, this is serious! You can’t _not_ believe me.” Stiles wailed, sadly, eyes watering from feeling patronized.

“Stiles, do you know where the notes are?” Derek chided.

“I can…try to find them? I’m being honest. Derek, you’re an attorney, you should know how these things work!”

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’s shoulders. “Baby, it’s not that I don’t believe you, I just know how _you_ work. You’ve done things like this before.”  
Frowning, Stiles rebutted, “So you’re not mad that another Alpha was hitting on me?”  
Derek lightly nipped Stiles’s ear. “Everyone hits on you, Stiles. Even Allison hits on you. We’re a hittable couple.”

“That’s not how you use that word.” Stiles got up and paced around the room. “Look, I think we should install some cameras.”

“I didn’t know you were into that,” Derek drawled following him around and trying to catch him in an embrace.

“Derek Hale!” Stiles shouted. He was now annoyed, and being an annoyed Omega so close to heat was not beneficial. “Why are you acting like this? You were always so serious and now I can’t get you to _be_ serious! Where’d your jealous nature go? This is important! What if something happens to Jamie? What if someone broke in?!” Tears were trailing down Stiles’s face now, the thought of Jamie setting a knot in his stomach.

“Stiles, if there was an Alpha, a _werewolf_ in the house, I would be able to smell it. I believe you, but I also think you should calm down and check things out _after_ your heat dissipates.” Derek kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly. We can install some cameras if you’d like.”

Stiles was relieved and it showed visibly when his shoulders dropped, causing Derek to topple over him a bit.

“Jamie needs something to eat before we drop him off.” Derek offered, getting dressed in casual clothing—a threadbare tee and some sweatpants. He kissed Stiles and walked down the stairs. Stiles trailed behind him soon enough. After hearing Derek and Lydia’s input, he felt silly. He also was a bit annoyed that he didn’t bring any food back from Sweetpeas, but.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Derek chirruped as he ran his finger through Jamie’s hair. He was watching some loud, colorful cartoon. _Paw Patrol._ Derek scoffed.

“You ready to sleep over at Grandpa’s house?” Stiles asked enthusiastically.

“Yeah!” Jamie screeched, causing both Derek and Stiles to wince.

After eating, Stiles and Derek strapped Jamie in his booster seat and drove to John’s house.

 

“Grandpa!” Jamie yelled and ran into the awaiting arms of his grandfather, who made an “oof” noise. Jamie was chatting John’s head off about a cartoon that “Grandpa just _has_ to watch with me!” So, once again, Jamie was settled in front of the TV. Derek came around from the Camaro to pull out Jamie’s sleeping bags and toys for the week.

“Jamie, you’re sitting too close to the TV, your vision will get bad.” Derek declared with a parental guard.

“Lydia said that’s a myth, Papa!” Derek’s eyes slid to Stiles’s who was talking to John about Jamie’s vitamins he took nightly. “This kid has got to stop hanging with your friends, Stiles.”

“You love my friends,” Stiles reminded and walked up to Derek to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Soon enough, John began to shoo them off. “When we pick Jamie back up next week, you might have another grandchild!” Stiles hollered from the car. John groaned and pushed Stiles back into the house. “Bye, baby! Muah, muah!” Blowing kisses from the car and driving off into the rest of the day, Stiles was ready to enjoy his week.

“Love you.” Stiles proposed happily, looking fresh and springy now that he’d got the confession off of his chest.

Derek looked at him like he was a gold medal. The wind was blowing his chestnut brown locks of hair and his silk woven t-shirt that shows a subtle lump of swollen nipples underneath. His lips were pink and plump and his eyes were relaxed and molten gold. Stiles _was_ a medal.

“Love you, too.” Derek mimicked.

 

But sometimes medals get bent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give kudos if u wanna #SlapDerekandLydia  
> Next up, Stiles's heat. #PrayforStiles  
> Once again, author did not thoroughly proofread chapter.  
> Yes, I meant MEDALS, not METALS :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heat :) And...emphasis on "male Omegas have tiny penises."  
> Minor trigger warning at end of notes.

Stiles and Derek arrived home after picking up some much needed lunch for the two of them, reveling in Stiles’s last, few coherent hours. The TV had still been blaring of children’s show tunes that Jamie had been previously watching, and Stiles settled himself on the couch, cuddling with Derek. Derek was behind Stiles and his body was wrapped around Stiles’s torso, his hands rubbing a mantra against Stiles’s cool, hairless forearms. Stiles was humming happily as he began to feel the tell-tale signs of his heat: the warmth strumming through his body, the buzzing in his head as he could only think about his Alpha holding him, his vision getting blurred every now and again.

“So, Mr. Hale,” Stiles started off with, “are you ready to be a daddy again?” Moving his head back against Derek’s chest, he stared up, looking wide-eyed and childlike, genuinely awaiting Derek’s answer.

Combing his hands through Stiles’s hair, he could feel the Omega heating up and slipped both of their t-shirts over their heads without much effort. “I’m ready to have as many pups as you’ll give me, babe.”

Stiles moaned at the thought of carrying Derek’s babies, and this time, actually being _ready_ and financially stable to do so. He loved every moment of carrying Jamie, because every kick Jamie produced gave Stiles the biggest smile. He would give Jamie a little brother or sister, or possibly more, without any distractions from bullies or from teachers. No one would be looking down on him this time. They were ready, and it was time. Stiles was so caught up in his thoughts that he realized that Derek was calling his name and shaking him a bit. Coming back to himself, he noticed how much he was sweating, and Derek was pulling him up and off of the loveseat.

“Derek, I’m so ready to have your baby in my belly,” Stiles mumbled almost incoherently. “So ready, so ready…”

Walking through the upstairs halls was a chore for Derek; Stiles kept holding him back, trying to rub himself against Derek and kiss him. Derek came to the consensus to just pick Stiles up and carry him to their bedroom. That way, Stiles could rub against Derek without delaying their travel. Derek was having a hard time holding himself back, in all honestly, but this was for Stiles. Stiles had always said that an Omega’s heat was something for both participating partners, but Derek knew that Stiles didn’t have that advantage during his childhood, so Derek wanted to make up for it now, by helping Stiles achieve climax. Which…

Derek looked down and saw the dark spot, both on his and Stiles’s pants, which was impressive, because Stiles never usually came so much as to show a spot. Male Omega orgasms were more of a mental, internal showing of pleasure as opposed to an Alpha or Beta male that would produce a copious amount of sperm. Finally reaching the bedroom, Derek carefully lays Stiles down. Derek insisted they take the bed sheets off, but Stiles wanted to keep them on and wait until they gradually came off, because he wanted the extra friction. Derek always took note to the things that made Stiles feel extremely pleasured, especially during this time where Stiles would be able to feel everything and more. Omegas are kept out of the workplace, and generally out of all public areas when in a heat. They, particularly Omega-Weres, were too vulnerable to sounds, smells and touches.

Stiles was coherent enough to be able to talk to Derek in short sentences. Things like, “Alpha, please,” “take care of me,” and “love you,” were some of the many phrases muttering out of Stiles’s mouth.

Derek couldn’t help but focus on his plush, pink lips. No one knew or would know Stiles’s lips like Derek; the way they doubled in size when chewed or kissed, the way they turned into a reddened tint instead of their usual pink, the smoothness they always had. Derek licked across Stiles’s lips and Stiles moaned and stuck his tongue out, thrusting it forcefully back and forth into Derek’s mouth. Their tongues danced together in fast, slick movements that ended up with them having saliva on their cheeks. Stiles was under Derek, breathing hard through his mouth and trying to keep up with Derek’s ministrations.

“Stiles, baby,” Derek began, always having this brief talk before Stiles went over the deep in, “your heat is cresting. Tell me now if there’s anything you don’t want me to do.”

Stiles stilled for a moment and stared deep into Derek’s eyes. His response was different this time.

“Give me a baby.”

Derek groaned and went down to where Stiles was wet and dripping. First, he took a deep inhale of the musk emitting from the area, before he went in. Before, Derek would just lap at the area, and Stiles would hold on for the ride. Now that they’ve been married and have made love, fucked and had sex for many years, Derek knew Stiles’s body and it conformed to its Alpha as soon as the mating bite took hold.

Derek swirled his tongue in and out of Stiles’s hole, enjoying the taste of his Omega and the especial sweetness of his slick. Stiles was clenching and unclenching, riding Derek’s face and gripping his hair roughly. Derek didn’t know every neighbor personally, but if there was a werewolf nearby, they’d be able to hear Stiles’s greedy, high-pitched moans. The sheets were already halfway hanging off of the bed, and it was getting extremely hot, in both senses of the word. More and more slick produced, and Derek knew Stiles was getting close to his first orgasm. Stiles was breathing heavily and moved his hands from Derek’s head to grip the pillow under his own. Eventually, his moans increased to a howl that was audible around the entire mansion.

“Ho-hooooly _f-uck!”_ Stiles cried as he writhed, trying to enjoy the lasting pleasure against Derek’s mouth.

The Omega was throbbing and pulsating, feeling every vibration post-orgasm. Being an Omega, he could withstand multiple at a time, and being in heat only increased that.

Derek went up from his position and kissed Stiles on the mouth, something people thought was only for an Alpha and Omega pair after said Alpha had just eaten said Omega out. A bottle of water was ready and waiting on the side of the nightstand, and was grabbed hastily, brought to the Omega’s parched lips. After a few gulps, Stiles started whining again, and Derek knew what he needed. He held Stiles’s shoulders down to omit his gangly, loose arms from flying everywhere.

“Alpha, please,” Stiles began flailing, trying and not succeeding to gain some kind of friction. “Please…”

Derek stared into those brown eyes with love and compassion, so grateful that he was able to give this to Stiles, he and no one else. He smiled, eternally grateful for this beautiful creature. Stiles, due to the abundance slick, didn’t need any prepping. Derek was hard, and he was leaking precum, as well. He slowly went inside of Stiles, hissing from the sudden pleasure. Stiles was _silk_ inside. A sharp howl was torn out of Stiles, as if he were the werewolf, and he wasted no time slamming his hips down, taking in all of Derek. Stiles’s small penis was red. It wasn’t big enough to be against his belly, but it stood as much as it could above slightly larger testicles.

“So good, Alpha— _unnnghhh!!”_ Derek had clamped Stiles’s legs forward against his chest where his plumped nipples were and began to ram into him. “ _Fuck ye-e-es-sss!!!”_ Spit flew everywhere as Stiles continued voicing his pleasure and each syllable was punctuated as Derek’s sharp movements proceeded. The mated pair always made eye-contact during intercourse and, it wasn’t any different this time. Derek was bent over Stiles like a stiff box, but his pelvis was very fluid and sent Stiles screaming with every thrust. He was focused, unlike Stiles, whose eyes were squinted, eyebrows drawn up in pleasure and mouth hanging open with his pink tongue laying behind his teeth. His face was the definition of pleasure. Stiles stared at Derek and stuck two fingers in his own mouth, gathering all of slick saliva that he could. The spit ran down his wrists, but he was too distracted to care. He put his wet fingers up against his nipples and began twisting them to further induce his orgasm.

And what kind of Alpha could resist that?

“Fuck, baby,” Derek exhaled harshly, stuttering in his movements, “gonna cum. Gonna knot you, Omega.”

And then Stiles came for the second time that day.

_Derek looked on from the tree across from the Stilinski’s home. Stiles had urgently texted him that Jamie was catching a fever, must have been, because he wouldn’t stop crying. John still hadn’t know about their relationship, but Derek was determined to check on his son. It was late at night, around ten, and Stiles had told Derek that the baby kept waking up with fits of crying. Stiles tried breastfeeding, but his heat suppressants collided with his original heat day, drying up his milk and making him emotional. This week was supposed to be his heat week._

_Using his werewolf hearing, Derek overheard Stiles calling his dad in, begging him to come help silence Jamie so they could all get some sleep._

_“Dad?” Stiles asked, voice tearful. “Daddy?”_

_John groaned in the distance, and Derek could see a blurb of a middle-aged man in a white t-shirt walk into the nursery. “Yes, Stiles?”_

_“He keeps crying, and I don’t know what to do! He won’t stop and I’ve tried everything. I keep waking up to him screaming.”_

_John wore a stressed face as he looked to the baby being held and rocked in Stiles’s hands. “Stiles,” he sighed heavily, swiping a hand over his face. “Jamie isn’t crying. This is the third time you’ve woken me up. He’s just babbling.”_

_Stiles looked down at the big-eyed baby, nearly five-months-old. “He must’ve stopped,” he whispered, looking back at his father with the same curious expression Jamie held._

_“Maybe I should take him for the night,” the sheriff held open his arms and stepped forward to claim the infant._

_“No! You can’t take him from me!” Stiles cried out, tightening his hold against the baby, pressing him against his childish nightgown._

_Derek inhaled sharply as the baby began to squirm against Stiles’s chest, wiggling around and starting to grab against Stiles’s pajamas. Jamie was being smothered and couldn’t breathe. Immediately, his Alpha instincts took hold of him, and he was bounding from tree branch to rooftop. The window to the nursery room was cracked a bit, both for Jamie’s apparent fever to cool and for Derek to be able to hear what was going on. Eventually, the Alpha found himself with Jamie in his hands, in the dimly-lit room. He could tell from the sheriff’s expression that he was seconds away from scolding Stiles and taking the baby. Stiles seemed to forget all about the baby, and just stared at his Alpha in awe, the effects of his heat taking over, without the actual heat._

_A clicking noise caught Derek’s attention, and he focused back on the sheriff, who had a hand on his hip. He must’ve gotten one of his guns while Derek was attending to his son._

_“Derek Hale?” The sheriff began with squinted, accusing eyes. “What in the absolute_ hell _are you doing in my home, carrying my grandson.”  
“Take a lucky guess.” Derek sneered with annoyance, “Don’t you dare point a gun at _ my _child.”_

_John was speechless, and Derek tried to stay as stealthy as he could with the baby pawing at his face, scent marking his Alpha._

_“You’re—what?!”_

_“Alpha,” Stiles smiled, and went up to hug him, completely ignoring his father’s shock. The sheriff stared in disturbance, finally seeing the family picture. Stiles’s Alpha, Jamie’s father. A man that was almost two decades older, with his fifteen-year-old Omega son. A man who’s been in and out of jail, in his home at ten at night._

_John was finally seeing the family picture as they stood together. Stiles’s heat medicine, for whatever reason, collided with his ADHD medicine and gave him a strange imagination, come heat time. This happened since he presented as an Omega—he’d be delusional and accidentally make things up, which was dangerous for him and others. Jamie wasn’t crying._

_They’d have to switch his meds._

_“I’m going to take my grandson, and you’re going to stay with Stiles tonight. He needs the contact,” snarled the Sheriff._

_“I don’t think you want to stand between an Alpha-Were and his cub, sir.” Derek told punctually._

_John’s eyes widened before squinting. “I’m going. To take. My grandson. Tonight. While you. Help. My fifteen-year-old. With his suppressed heat. Now.” He spoke each word sharply, with a “no bullshit” tone._

_Derek swallowed thickly and nodded, and hesitantly traded Jamie—who was now sleeping—over._

_“No sexual touching at all.” John warned, as he walked out of the room. “We’re all going to talk in the morning.” “Stiles I’ll be right across the hallway if you need me.”  
“Ok, Daddy,” Stiles responded in a daze, face still tucked into Derek’s shirt._

_John walked out with a keen ear, hearing Derek say, “You can’t do this every time your heat date comes,” to which Stiles responded, “OK, Alpha.”_

Derek woke up with a start and immediately began to moan. He saw before he felt Stiles working on his dick, taking it up and down his throat a swallowing roughly around it. The hand Stiles was using to jerk him off was covered in filmy, white spit. The Omega gagged and choked around Derek’s dick as his throat convulsed.. Derek didn’t make any indication that he was awake, but Stiles continued as if he was. He was grappling and gathering the bed comforter around them before he got on his knees and straddled Derek, in a reverse-cowgirl position, loose strings of slick searching for thighs to cling onto. He slid up and down smoothly, dominating in his actions. Trying to keep quiet because the Alpha didn’t want Stiles to stop, he clamped his teeth together, desperate to keep from moaning out. It wasn’t usual for Stiles to be so dominant in a heat.

He was muttering a litany of curses as he fucked himself on his Alpha, and gave Derek a good view of his tiny, pink asshole taking Derek in and out, fluids rushing out with each thrust. Derek’s pelvic area was sticky and wet and only got stickier and wetter, making a noise each time Stiles went upwards. Stiles began to hold onto Derek’s thighs and pressed as hard as he could to Derek’s dick, trying to gain friction. He swiveled his hips back and forth, grinding and groaning. Even if Derek was noticeably awake, Stiles wouldn’t be able to tell because of how loud he was being. Stiles was suddenly quiet in concentration. Derek saw his hand go downwards, and he moaned gutturally when he realized that Stiles was rubbing himself quickly, like a woman would her clitoris. Immediately, Stiles turned and looked at his Alpha with tearful, wide eyes, like a child who’d promptly burst into tears when being caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

“’M sorry, Alpha,” Stiles, whose voice was wrecked, quickly got off of Derek’s dick, making Derek wince, because he knew it must’ve hurt. _Omegas were so damned self-heedless during heats._ “’M sorry, couldn’t wait anymore.” He rasped, and went up to Derek’s face to kiss him on his forehead and face and cheeks. Derek had learned a long time ago how apologetic Stiles could be over nothing.

“It’s okay, Omega. Shh,shh…” he tried to calm Stiles by reminding him that he was, in fact, allowed to do this. “You can keep going.” And that was all Stiles needed—direction from his Alpha. He got back on Derek, this time facing him, as he pounded himself to pleasure. They climaxed together, once again, and Stiles cried when Derek knotted him, out of pure love.

 

By the end of the week, Stiles had been fucked, fed, nursed and bathed by Derek. They both had several mind-blowing orgasms together, and the scent of the room proved it so.

Stiles was in the bathtub, finally coming down from the heat that had lasted for exactly six days. He was so lucky to have such a thoughtful Alpha, who filled the tub up for him and set a tray of breakfast at the side. The couple had a mini flat-screen implanted in their bathroom wall, and Stiles watched ‘Friends’ while Derek cleaned and aired out their room. He knew Stiles would be sleeping throughout most of the day, and wanted him to have fresh sheets to lie down in. The commercials were playing on the television, and Stiles noticed that it was for a movie Jamie had been talking about, months before the release. “Babe, we should take James to see ‘Finding Dory’ tomorrow.”

“What’d you say?” Derek peeked in, a bit agitated whenever he did heavy cleaning, since it was usually Stiles chore.

“We should take James to see “Finding Dory” tomorrow, I said. He’s been wantin’ ‘ta see it.”

“James, huh?” Derek huffed out a laugh, finding it adorable that Stiles always called Jamie by his real name whenever they had been separated for a while, also known as, any time Stiles was in a heat.

“I miss my baby, Derek. That’s my first born.” Stiles closed his eyes and laid his head back against the porcelain.

“That’s your only born, Stiles.”

Stiles huffed. “I feel the process of pregnancy. I feel like I’m currently pregnant-ing,” he confessed, looking down at what would be his stomach if it weren’t covered in soap bubbles. “This is so happening, babe. I can feel your Alpha cream racing to make out with my Omega juices,” Stiles insisted, and choked out a laugh and sputtered when Derek groaned and came in the bathroom to throw some bubbles into Stiles’s unexpected face.

 

 

The next day came timely, and Derek picked up Jamie from the sheriff’s house. It was always hard to look him in the eye after coming back from a heat shared with Stiles.

“Dad!” Jamie barked when Derek came through the door. He could tell that Jamie was saddened from the absence of his mother, but it quickly faded when he brought up that they were going to see the “Finding Dory” movie together. Derek had to go back into work tomorrow, so he wanted it to be a good day. John had already had Jamie’s things packed and ready near the door, and Melissa was cleaning up the area from the sandwiches they’d eaten only minutes before. “Do you still have room for popcorn?” Derek asked his son seriously. Jamie sported a face just a serious as Derek’s. “I always have popcorn room.”  
“Oh, Lord,” Derek heard John say in the background.

“Go get in the car, Mama’s waiting for us at home,” he encouraged. John puffed his chest out, “not before you give your Mimi and Papa a kiss.”

After Jamie was settled in the car, at a distance where Derek could still keep watch, the Alpha turned around to talk to John. “How was he? Anything I need to know about?” He interrogated. John rolled his eyes, obviously used to the question. “He was fine, like always, Derek.”

“No scary movies, right?”  
“No scary movies. How’s Stiles?”

“He’s…fine. Hopefully, he’s… you know.”

John squinted his eyes, “Are you sure it’s not too soon to be trying for a baby? He’s only twenty-one, you know? And you’re getting up there, Derek,” he chided.

“We know what we’re doing. We’re stable. Anyway, they’re waiting, see you next time.” Derek waved out, wanting to leave. Jamie sang all the way home, a Led Zeppelin song that John had taught him, even though he was butchering the lyrics. “Can you sing the ‘Zones’ song from Finding Nemo?” Derek asked in his fatherly manner. And then Jamie wouldn’t stop screaming the whole ride.

When they got home, only about fifteen minutes from the Stiles’s childhood home, Stiles squealed when he saw Jamie, and immediately ran to hug him and spin in around. He was dressed in his usual attire—a loose fitting linen sundress. “You ready?!” Stiles asked cheerfully, to which Jamie responded with a loud ‘yeah!’ that made Derek cover his ears.

The movie was fine, full kids, teens and adults, alike. Stiles cried during some parts, because, _damn_ , that movie was _deep_. When they were done with the excitement of their day, Stiles felt tired, still catching the after effects of his heat, and he wanted to go to bed. His nap went well into the middle of the night where he woke up to a quiet, sleeping house.

Derek had put Jamie down, which had taken awhile, as the pup was afraid of the “evil, brain-eating zombies under his bed.” _Derek was going to kill John._

He didn’t quite know what to do, so he just thought about his family. He hoped he was pregnant and subconsciously rubbed circles into his belly. He quickly got the idea of a cookout, because he hadn’t seen the pack in a while and neither had Derek. Mentally planning the day of the event, he set out a text message to his contacts listed in the ‘friends’ group. He smiled to himself as he typed: _Cookout at our place Saturday. Pup will most-likely be at Dad’s. :P_ The Omega deemed that it was time to go back to sleep when Derek obliviously wrapped his arms around him. Stiles kissed his forearm, and closed his eyes to the buzzing white noise of the TV.

**One Week Later. . .**

“Bye, Daddy! Don’t let Jamie watch any scary movies! I mean it!” He called out from the car window, driving Derek’s Camaro to drop him off, which was a privilege in itself. When he arrived back to the Hale mansion, he was greeted by the laughter of Scott and the smell of fresh burgers, chicken and ribs on the grill. Upon seeing Stiles, Scott gave him a bear hug that nearly crushed him, and Stiles shied away from it in precaution of if he was pregnant. Lydia, Allison, Erica, Jackson, Boyd and several other members of the pack were in the large backyard, either wrestling or bringing food in and out, inviting dozens of flies into the house, Stiles was sure. Just like any other time they were all together, Stiles strayed with the girls, not including Erica, as Derek as the rest of the Alphas and Betas stayed together, drunk off of their asses on Wolf’s Bane-laced booze. The food smelled absolutely amazing, and Stiles may or may not have been on Derek’s ass for him to hurry up with it. Soon, though, it was done and they ate outside on the lunch benches. Everyone groaned, and Stiles was quite satisfied with the meal.

He nearly spit out his food when he heard a familiar, ‘hello?’

_Fuck._

Everyone’s heads turned as Duncan Ortega waltzed his way into the backyard, heavy boots ruining fresh, green grass that Stiles took care of and fertilized quite often. It was then that Stiles realized Duncan must’ve been on his friends list in his phone contacts, and he’d sent a group message to everyone.

The Alphas, Scott and Derek, both flashed their eyes at Duncan, sensing an Alpha-Were presence. “Who the hell are you?” Derek bossed, straightening up in Duncan’s face.

“Ah, I’m Duncan. I’m sure Stiles has told you about me? I was invited to the cook out?” He answered, questioningly. Stiles bit his lip and looked over at Lydia and Allison, who wore weary glances. Lydia had a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Ah,” Stiles got up and gathered himself quickly. “Babe, this is my friend Duncan. I told you about him, maybe two weeks ago? He’s a cool guy. I think you’d make nice…pals.”

“This is a _pack_ cookout,” Derek looked as if his hackles were rising, and they might as well have been, seeing as how his eyes haven’t dimmed their red tint since Duncan walked in.

“Derek, chill.” Scott chimed in, holding his hand out for Duncan to shake. “I’m Scott, obviously and Alpha who accompanies Derek with this pack.”

“A joint pack, huh?” Duncan asked while also shaking hands with Scott, and soon Derek.

“Yeah, we’ve had our ups and downs, but eventually we sought out that a joint pack was the best way to manage everyone.” Derek still didn’t look convinced, but he couldn’t hold his stance as long as he wanted to, because of the Wolf’s Bane coursing through his body.

Duncan held his hands out in surrender. “Hopefully I can be of a friend, and not seen as an enemy,” he joked. Stiles cut Derek off of whatever he was going to say, and ever the hostess, told Duncan that there was plenty of food to go around and that he was welcome to eat.

 

Throughout the night, Derek loosened up, and everyone was drunk, give or take Stiles and Allison. Eventually, Derek and Duncan began bonding over memories of their childhood and how growing up as Alpha werewolves was like. Stiles enjoyed the conversation. The wolves howled karaoke songs and shared stories of pack hierarchy throughout times, getting political at bits. Soon into the conversation, Duncan perked up.  
“Do you mind if I use your restroom?”

“Down the hall, the first bathroom is to your left.” Derek slurred much to Duncan’s appreciation.

Stiles was conversing with Lydia, who was talking about an argument she and Jackson got into again. She could clearly tell that Stiles was distracting, as his pink-bitten lips were obvious. “Do you think Duncan has been in there for a long time?” He asked her.

“Stiles, he drank a lot of beer, he’s gonna piss an ocean.” She responded back.

Stiles scrunched his face up at that. “Well I’m going to check on him.”

Stiles walked into the quiet house and didn’t hear anything suspicious. He tip-toed to make sure he wasn’t being loud, yet heard nothing.

“Looking for me?”

  
“ _Oh my god!_ ” Stiles shrieked and jumped a few feet away from the sound. Duncan had crept up behind him somehow. He began to chuckle at Stiles’s shakiness. “’S not funny.” He began childishly.

“You’re just upset that I snuck up on you at your own house,” the tall man teased. And seriously, he was tall—towering over Stiles like a skyscraper. He didn’t seem as drunk as he’d let on before.

“Well. Did you find the bathroom…okay?” Stiles retorted with no real heat, causing Duncan to give a hardy laugh. 

Stiles could hear Scott outside, drunken and loudly asking, "Dude! How much was this house?!"

 

They walked back out with the rest of the pack to enjoy their night, and Duncan was behaving just fine. When it was time to leave, though, Duncan was too drunk to. He and Derek became apparent best friends tonight. Lydia, of course, drove as many people as she could home in her small car. Derek insisted that Duncan spend the night in the guest room, and leave in the morning. And of-fucking-course he did. Stiles was still pretty weary of him, but he seemed fine when he was sent off to the guest bed.

 

Waking up was a bleak experience, one Stiles didn’t look forward to doing. He nursed Derek’s headaches and kissed his forehead at every wince.

“I hate feeling weak.” Derek blurted out, crouched near the toilet. “I’m the fucking _Alpha.”_

“I know, I know,” he Stiles replied calmly. Duncan had left earlier that morning, and Stiles sent him off with a cup of fresh orange juice.

It was Sunday morning.

 

**Meanwhile. . .**

Duncan smiled evilly and sipped from his bottle of Jack Daniel’s as he looked at Stiles walking about through the surveillance camera installed in their house that he had hacked that night before with the tools he'd gotten from the store weeks prior. He was able to see every room in the Hale mansion. His eyes focused on Stiles rubbing the Alpha’s back up in down. Derek had clung to Stiles and kissed his cheek. Duncan squeezed the glass so hard that it shattered in his hands.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: During a flashback, Stiles is a teenager and he's in heat. When he catches scent of his Alpha, he unnoticeably smothers the baby  
> into his shirt, cutting off his air.
> 
> So, heed the tags, because this was the turning point of the fic. If you're uncomfortable so far, definitely do not tread on. I'll probably add more tags as this moves forward. Any questions? Just ask :p So far, I don't have a set schedule, but i will not go a month without updated. That's what I do know lol. Shoutout to AnnGyy. [TELL ME IF I HAVE A BUNCH OF TYPOS, CUZ LORD KNOWS IT'S HARD TO RE-READ YOUR OWN WRITING.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very graphic, and I had a hard time writing it. Do not read this if you don't think you can handle it.

Derek stayed in bed for a while to collect his thoughts on the previous night’s events. He foggily remembered minor things, like the alcohol, the food and the new Alpha. The rest was a blur. He woke up feeling like shit on a stick, with said stick up his ass. Stiles, of course, was there to take care of him as his headaches and nausea healed. They picked up Jamie that night. Jamie and John hadn’t done anything special except for familiar things anyone would do with their grandparent, with the exception of Melissa running in and out of the house when she was on call.

Like always, Stiles was ecstatic to see his baby boy. John questioned him as to what he was drinking and how much, much to Stiles’s displeasure. It was almost like the sheriff asked things specifically to bring up the idea of pregnancy, which was such a drastic change from how he felt about his pregnancy at fifteen.

The day moved quickly. Stiles being at home and relaxing and Derek doing work from his laptop in the office room, eyebrows creased and heavily focused. Jamie asked mindless questions about the movie they were sitting down and watching.

“Mama, what’s your favorite Star Wars movie?” Jamie asked him, climbing from the floor and into Stiles’s lap.

“They’re called episodes, hon, and my favorite is the one we’re watching, episode three.” Had it been a school night, Stiles wouldn’t have allowed Jamie to be watching something so violent so late at night, but Jamie had begged with the excuse that he was on summer vacation and that the monsters wouldn’t be able to get him. Plus, Stiles needed to get Jamie cultured on important movies to watch in life. Right into the battle scene between Anakin and Obiwan, the Stiles’s dad’s phone number appeared on the TV screen, bright, white and distracting in contrast to the black and red on screen. The house phone rang, and Stiles could see Derek jump from the noise through the glass of the closed office door. He continued to do his work, though, and looked up to Stiles when the phone continued to ring. Stiles just shrugged, having no idea why his dad would be calling the house phone that they never use.

He walked upstairs in the hallway to get the phone connected to the wall.

“Hey?” Stiles answered.

“Hey, bud. It’s just your dad,” the sheriff answered gruffly.

“I know it’s you, Dad, your name pops up on the TV. Which, Jamie and I were watching. Star Wars. Not cool. What’s up with the landline-calling?”

“Aw, hell, kid. My cell phone is doing some wonky stuff and the home phone was the only number I remembered by heart.”

Stiles sighed and leaned back against the wall. “Dad, you need to memorize my number. What if something serious happened and you couldn’t get to me because you’re stuck in the 80’s? I make Jamie practice using my number very frequently. Like you taught me to do.”

“I know, I know. I’ll do better,” John laughed. “But Melissa overheard some people in the lobby talking about a surfing festival at the beach next week, and I wanted to know if Jamie would like to tag along. He loves to watch me surf.”

Stiles softened. “Of course, Dad, Jamie loves hanging out with you guys. I’m starting to feel like he lives with you now.” Stiles replied, distracted by the phone cord twisting around his finger. “I’m sure he’ll love that.” The smile in his voice was evident.

“Great! I’ll let you know more details…hopefully, I’ll have my phone fixed by then. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad.” John hung up first, and Stiles was about to hang up when he heard that the line wasn’t disconnected. “Hello?” He felt silly speaking to seemingly no one. “Derek, are you eavesdropping?” Nothing. Stiles shrugged it off and wet back into the living room where Jamie was watching with wide eyes.

Soon enough, although the movie wasn’t over quite yet, it was getting late, and Stiles needed to bathe Jamie. “We can watch it in the tub, baby.”

Bath time was a special bonding time for Stiles and Jamie. When Stiles was pregnant, he would soak in the bath for hours, refilling the tub when the water got to cold. It had always stopped Jamie from kicking. Though, there was one incident where Stiles accidentally peed in the tub from one harsh kick. They don’t talk about that.

“Turn,” instructed Stiles, helping his son turn his body so that Stiles could wash his hair. “Close your eyes, baby.”

“Nu-uh,” Jamie responded defiantly.

“James, come on, you don’t want it to burn your eyes.” Stiles responded to Jamie’s disobedience.

“Nu-uh, ‘cause if I get soap in my eyes, I’ll just heal like Daddy!”

And wasn’t that the sweetest thing. It made Stiles a bit disheartened that Jamie hadn’t shown obvious signs of lycanthropy, but there’s no cut off. Some people don’t show signs until something really drastic happens in their life, Derek told him once, sadly.

“But if soap gets in your eyes, that’ll make Mama sad.” Stiles brings some water from the bath onto his cheeks to feign crying, and Jamie’s eyes widen before they shut closed tightly. Stiles smirked to himself and scrubbed through Jamie’s locks. He then hears two quick knocks on the bathroom door and turns to see Derek standing at the door with a guilty look on his face.

“What is it?” Stiles questions as Jamie slightly opens his eyes to peak at his father.

“So, I’ve just been informed that I have to assist with a loss mitigation case. It’s suspected to take about a week to form the case and argue it in court. It’s going to be super busy.” Derek began to walk towards them and get on his knees against the bathtub to be eye-level with Stiles.

Stiles squints his eyes, sensing more the other truth Derek is hiding. “What are you not telling me? Is it in Arizona like last time? Do you have an Omega client who has the hots for you? Are you—”

“It’s in Ohio, babe.” Derek deadpans.

Stiles’s eyes stay on Derek’s for a long time, and Jamie begins to whine, sensing the tenseness in the room.

“We’ll talk after dinner,” is all Stiles responds, stoic as it may be, and leaves no room for further discussion, going back to washing and rinsing Jamie’s hair. Derek nods slowly and says, “let me start on that now.”

“That’d be smart.”

 

 

Dinner is quiet, so much, that Stiles allows Jamie to eat in front of the television. Stiles stabs into his salad and bites down hard on his fork. Derek is sure he’s bitten his tongue at least once. Stiles is long finished before Derek, and  doesn’t hesitate to wash his and Jamie’s plates and carry him upstairs for bed, leaving Derek alone in the dining room with the white noise of whatever Jamie was watching. After finishing his dinner, Derek solemnly goes up the stairs. After peeking on Jamie to make sure he was tucked in bed, he walked into their bedroom to see Stiles, now dressed in his silky, white robe that Lydia had gotten him for Christmas. Stiles was at the table, applying a green facial masque on. He showed no signs of hearing Derek walk in. The Alpha sighed heavily and began to undress. When he looked back up, Stiles was standing with his arms folded on his chest.

“Stiles—”

“A week, Derek? Across the country? For a loss mitigation case? Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“I can show you the e-mail—” Derek tried to explain.

“I don’t want to see a damned e-mail!” Stiles rages, looking like The Grinch with his green masque.

“Baby,” Derek begins to stand, “I swear I’m telling the truth.” Derek pleaded.

Stiles’s resolve fell, then. “Just…why so long?” He asked, walking towards the bed and sitting down to crowd up against his Alpha.

“We’ve dealt with this client for years. He’s always on our ass. We need the best lawyers for this case, and I’m included. This is a huge case that I have to go to. I would’ve told you better if I’d known. Think about it,” he chides “the more flight time I have, the more miles we can get. Then we can go on a trip wherever we want.” Derek says to enthuse the Omega.

“We can do that anyway, babe.” Sighing, Stiles snuffles close and caresses his hands up and down Derek’s chest.

Derek grabbed both of his hands and clutched them into one of his own, “So why don’t we ever do it?”

“…I don’t know. I don’t know. I feel like everyone is always gone and I’m just stuck here.” Stiles explains.

Derek’s eyebrows crease a bit, “But Jamie will be here with you.”

“Yeah, about that,” Stiles sighs, “Dad and Melissa wanna go take him to some surfing festival at the beach, thus Stiles being alone with his Alpha in Rome.”

“Ohio.”

“Oh, shut up, it rhymed.” Stiles’s eyes rolled.

“Well, maybe it’s for the best,” Derek’s eyes darken a bit. “Then you’ll be able to send me those sexy videos of yourself while I’m away. No interruptions from Jamie.” He goes down to kiss Stiles’s neck slowly. “Maybe set up a big camera right in front of the bed. Get that _toy_ I got for you on our anniversary.”

“Mmm,” Stiles’s head lolls back and he bites his bottom lip, turning its pink into white as Derek sucks on his adam’s apple, careful to avoid the cream on his face.

“What if—what if I’m pregnant,” Stiles stutters out. His instincts have been telling him to get a pregnancy test for two weeks, but he’s been hesitant for whatever reason.

“We’ll check as soon as I get back. I don’t want to find out and the leave.” The Alpha says, causing Stiles to blush, and grabs Stiles’s ass to lift him and place him on the bed. Derek’s been hesitant to tell Stiles that he hadn’t smelled pregnant yet, but that could be chocked up to a number of things. The rest of the night is filled with moans and giggles, followed by Stiles yelling “Derek, my face masque is cracking!”

 

The week passes by extremely quickly, much to Stiles’s demise. Stiles sat on the bed with his knees up to his chest, watching Derek pack some last-minute things: Stiles’s panties, a tiny tube of Stiles’s slick from this morning, and a few other things. Stiles refused to let him leave with giving him a screaming orgasm that morning. Jamie was already gone to the beach with his Mimi and Papa, ready to learn how to ride low-tide. So, later when Derek leaves, Stiles continues to sit there on the bed. . He’s bored as hell, and he’s still having a hard time forgiving Derek for something that isn’t his fault. He’s damn sure not up to doing any videos for him.

Stiles constantly feels alone in his own home, just like how he felt when he became pregnant with Jamie.

_“Stiles, what the hell were you thinking?!”_

He sighs and looks at the clock, seeing that it’s not even past noon. So he goes back to sleep for about two hours and wakes up to the sun gleaming in his face. “Oh, shit,” he mutters and goes for his phone. There’s a text from Derek saying that he’s about to board the plane with a kissy face. Stiles quickly texts him back and gets up to make himself breakfast.

 _We need a dog_ , Stiles thinks to himself. Looking through his phone, he sees the rest of the text he’s received from Scott and the rest of the pack checking on him to see if he’s okay. There’ve been other times where Stiles had completely freaked out because of Derek leaving for work to go to Arizona, Washington, New Mexico—and those were just for weekends. But now that it’s summer, and Jamie is constantly out of the house, it’s way too quiet, and Stiles hates it. So, he calls the only person he knows will be completely awake and available to talk to him—Lydia.

The line picks up after three rings, and Lydia sounds likes she’s already had her coffee.

“Hey, Stiles,” she says casually, likely cooking, because Stiles can hear water running and kitchen utensils clanging.

“Hey, Lyds, what’re you up to?” Stiles should probably eat something as well, as he’s possibly eating for two.

She sighs, “Nothing, really. Now that we’re on summer break, I’ve been trying to mend my relationship with Jackson, but he always finds ways to show his ass. I’m just cleaning up from lunch.”

‘What’d Jackson do?” Stiles interrogates, because he knows how damn difficult Jackson is.  

Laughing, Lydia responds, “Same old shit, just a different day.”

“Well…my family is gone, so…no fun train at the Hale household.” Stiles says solemnly. “I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know what I want to do for the rest of the week or what I’ll do with Jamie when he gets back. Maybe I should just stay over my Dad’s house until Derek gets back. Or even Scott—”

“No,” Lydia says harshly, and Stiles looks at the screen of the phone to make sure he’s still talking to Lydia. Ok then.

“Uh, why not?” He chuckles, because that was weird.

“Because, Stiles, you’re twenty-one. Pamper yourself. Cheat on your diet.”

“But, I’m not on a diet,” Stiles whines back to Lydia, pacing as he always does when he’s on the phone.

“Lucky you,” the girl bites. And, yeah, she must be on her cycle.

“Yeah, I’m twenty-one with a kid, married, and I only just turned eligible for drinking and possibly pregnant. Life is but a dream.” Stiles rolls his eyes. He loves, absolutely adores his family, but he can’t live it up like the rest of his friends are doing without suffering major consequences.

“Possibly pregnant?” Lydia mutters, more so to herself if anything.

“You didn’t hear that from me. Yet. But, anyway, I can’t just go out in the world. At least not alone. Wanna go to the mall?”

“Hmm...”  Lydia conspires, “want to shop for lingerie? I’m sure…Derek will appreciate when he gets back. It’s on me.”

“I have my own money, Lyds, but hell yes, let’s go.”

 

Lydia picks Stiles up an hour later and they go to a high-end mall the next city over. It’s huge with several floors. Stiles is wearing something he can easily slip on and off in case he tries on a bunch of clothes. He’s wearing a white, pull-up romper that looks somewhat like a mini dress, and he can tell by the stares that he’s getting from both Lydia and others in the mall that he looks good. The two must look intimating, because no vendors try to go up to them, except for the people Lydia personally knows who she talks to for a little while.

They go in a bright store specifically for lingerie, and Stiles can tell that all of the workers are Omegas there. They immediately stop helping their current customers to walk over to Stiles and Lydia, but Lydia already has someone in mind to help them, it seems. Someone, a tall, broad-shouldered Alpha, it seems, steps out through a door behind the registers. He stares at Stiles intently, and Stiles blushes under the stare.

Lydia moves in front of Stiles, and he’s instantly relieved when the Alpha steps down to kiss her cheek.

“Corbin, how are you, darling?” Lydia asks, completely overshadowing Stiles. He stands there awkwardly, waiting for them to finish their conversation. He hears his name, and he looks up. The Alpha is still staring at him like Stiles has personally offended him, but Stiles holds his hand out anyway. “I’m Stiles, Lydia’s friend.”

“Come with me.” He says, and leads the way to a secluded section in the corner of the store. Stiles follows him, giving Lydia a worried look on the way. “Don’t worry, he’s gay,” Lydia whispers.

When Stiles catches up to Corbin, he sees why Lydia chose this place. The selection of lingerie is large, and the quality is outstanding. Stiles feels the linens, and he feels like he’s dirtying the clothes just by touching them. The prices must be over the roof.

“Wow,” he says, causing Corbin to chuckle.

“I can tell that you’re a person of great taste,” Corbin explains, “therefore, I brought you to the celebrity section. These have been worn by many runway models in Hollywood and New York. The prices vary, but you must have expensive taste if you’re friends with Miss Martin.”

Stiles peers over to look for Lydia, and he can see her urgently talking on the phone at the far end of the store. She seems to be whispering something, and she looks around a few times.

He hears two loud snaps in his ear, and he turns to see Corbin holding up a magenta dress set, and a beautiful eggshell set. “Wow,” he says again.

“We’ll take it!” Lydia says, appearing out of nowhere. They don’t even end up trying it on, and the prices make Stiles’s eyes bulge, but Lydia is insistent on paying for it.

“Thanks, Lydia. We probably could’ve gotten something at Victoria’s Secret for much cheaper, though.”

“Nonsense, that’s child’s play,” she responds, “you’re not the only one who has the big bucks, you know,” she chides quietly, causing Stiles’s eyebrows to furrow.

“Of course I know,” he responds quietly, embarrassed.

  
The rest of the mall day goes on, and Stiles has fun throughout it. They eat together, something more on the less expensive side, which _Stiles_ pays for this time. On the way back, Stiles fumbles through his small purse and it takes him a while to find his keys.

“Hey, Lydia? Do you have the pack key?”

 Derek insisted that everyone in the pack have a key to the Alpha’s house. It was essential to be able to have access to the highest of the hierarchy’s chambers.

Lydia’s eyes widened a bit before studying her face in a casual manner, “I usually, have it. I left it at home today. I think it was because I threw my stuff at Jackson and everything fell out. You can’t find yours?”

Stiles continues digging around, had stopped listening to Lydia talking after he heard ‘no’. He eventually found it, thankfully, and hopped out of Lydia’s car. “You sure you don’t want to spend the night or anything?” He asks her, not really ready to leave her behind after having such an interesting day. “You might as well.”  
  
“No, I have to clean the house. I’ll probably stop by tomorrow, though. How long is Jamie going to be gone?”

“Just for today,” Stiles checked his phone and saw that it was only half past six. “He should be back later on tonight.”

They both jump a bit as Lydia’s phone begins to blare a loud ringtone.

“Duty calls,” she says.

Laughing, Stiles guesses, “Jackson, huh?” Causing her eyes to roll and her head to nod.

“Have fun tonight,” she winks.

They part ways then, and Stiles groans at the coolness of his home, a large contrast from the heat outside. Stiles has a bunch of texts from Derek that he’s been ignoring all day in favor of having fun, which he’s sure Derek will forgive, considering the clothes Stiles got today in his favor. He takes a shower to clean all of the sweat he’d collected throughout the day, wetting his hair as opposed to washing it.

He isn’t sure which set of clothes he wants to try on first, but soon decides on the white one. He dries off, and turns the television on while doing so. He texts Derek back, telling him that he has no idea what he’s in for. Pulling out the white underwear and bra and putting it on, he moans at the quality of the silky fabrics on his smoothly shaven skin. There’s also a sheer cover-up that goes over it, and Stiles just wishes Derek were here to have a first-hand experience with it. Things in the house are quiet and normal for a while. It’s later, and Stiles’s dad had texted him that they’d be home later tonight, warning him that in case he falls asleep, the sheriff will use his key to come in.

Stiles’s eyes squinted, as he thought he heard a noise downstairs. Immediately, he goes to the remote to mute the TV. He doesn’t hear anything then, and he tries to calm himself down mentally. The houses in their neighborhood aren’t connected, so it’s extremely rare that they even hear neighbors outside, let alone from the house. Again, he hears some kind of creaking noise. He has no idea where it’s coming from. The stairs are new, and nothing creaks. Stiles thinks to reach for the gun Derek keeps in their bedroom drawer, which is has a lock and requires a key, a key they keep on the ledge on the top of the door trimming., which, for Stiles, requires a stepping stool.

Stiles grabbed the stool they kept nearby, and slowly, carefully walked across the room to the door. He obtained the key and heads for the drawer, his heart beating profusely.

_“Knock, knock.”_

 

Stiles’s eyes widened and he turned quickly, seeing Duncan slowly walking into the room. The Alpha is smiling deviously and his pupils are blown. Stiles sucked in a sharp breath, whole body shaking and feeling numb.

“How did you get in here?” Stiles asked, dumbfounded and trying to remember everything his father had ever taught him about being in a situation like this. The key in his hands scrapes against the wood of the drawer with each shake of Stiles’s hands. His mouth quickly salivated as his fear increased.

“Baby,” Duncan crooned, stepping closer with each second, “you invited me here.” Duncan’s hands fell from behind his back, and a large, black duffel bag dropped to the ground, causing whatever was inside to clash.

The Omega choked out a sob, and turns quickly to unlock the drawer, but he can’t get his grip correctly, because his hands are sweaty and he can barely make a squeeze his fingers together without a numbing pain erupting from it. He carefully tries to focus as tears cloud his eyes, and he get the key through the hole, but Duncan appears behind him and steps on his hand, causing the key to break in half and Stiles’s hand to burn. He yelps when his head is pulled back by his hair, forcing him to swallow harshly from the pressure and the angle.

“It’s okay, baby, I got my own tools. We don’t need to use yours.” Duncan assured, bending his body to lick across Stiles’s cheek and the Omega tries to escape his grip.

Stiles stills and breathes, thinking about the phone lying under the pile of bed sheets. He subtly slides his eyes across the bed and widens his stance to prepare for the dash, but Duncan holds him tighter.

“Don’t even try to run, baby,” he began, “I already know where everything is. And this?” He walk Stiles over to the bed, directly centering them to where the phone is. Lifting up the covers, Duncan sees and grabs the phone and throws it across the room and into the wall, causing it to shatter.

Stiles whines high and reedy in his throat, _“HELP_ — _”_  Stiles’s scream for help quickly ceases as his air supply is cut off by the headlock Duncan puts him in. He feels at his neck, and he freezes, immediately feeling them pierce through the fine layer of skin.

“I’m going to say this, and I’m going to say it once, _Omega_ ,” the dark Alpha cautioned, “You’re going to follow every instruction I give you, and you’re going to do it without a fight. Do you understand?!” He exclaimed, yanking Stiles’s head at the last sentence. Stiles sobs loudly, and tries to agree, but he can’t catch his breath. Duncan’s claws stab through him, and he howls out a ‘yes!’ in pain. The Alpha brings him over and kneels down, bringing Stiles with him so that he’s crouched under.

“This bag has all of the fun things we’re going to play with tonight, yeah? Reach into the bag and pull everything out. Don’t try any stupid shit,” Duncan warns.

As Stiles shakily unzips the bag, he gets light-headed at each item he pulls out: ball gags, duct tape, lube, knotted dildos, vibrators…chains, rope, whips…

Two needles.

Duncan makes Stiles say each item he pulls out aloud, and Stiles nearly gags at each word. He whispers them, unable to speak any louder, and he’s scared for his fucking life to even try to counter-attack Duncan with any of them.

He turns his head a bit so that it’s crooked into the Alpha’s neck, trying to appeal to his sense. “Please, Alpha,” his laments and he knows Duncan is preening inside at the admission, “please, I’m scared. I have money, and you can have all of it. You can have my car, you can have my jewelry, and I’ll give you anything. But, _please_ ,” he begs, “not _this._ ”

Duncan is quiet for a second before crooning, “Aww, shhh. It’s okay to be afraid at first. But it’ll get fun. I promise.” And he kisses Stiles face.

“My Alpha will be home soon. And my dad—he’s—he’s a cop. He’ll catch you,” Stiles seethes.

“Cut the crap, Omega. I know where your Alpha is, and if you don’t cooperate, I’ll go after your little boy, too. What’s his name? _James?_ ”

Stiles’s face scrunches up at the mention of his son, and he releases a harsh choking sound.

“That’s what I thought.” He breathes roughly through his mouth and gets ready to release a scream not even Lydia could pull off, but Duncan tapes his mouth and drags him across the carpeted floor, burning Stiles’s knees and elbows. The Alpha brings the rope over and grabs Stiles’s hands in one of his own, wrapping and securing them to the end of the footboard. Stiles screams under the tape and pulls at the rope, causing the skin on his wrists to split and splinter. A sharp, _crushing_ pain emits from the front of his head, and it takes him a moment to focus and realized that Duncan slammed his face against the foot post.

“Shut the hell up or I’ll _really_ fucking hurt you, bitch!”

Stiles’s fight falls, and he rests his head on the post, sitting on his knees.

“You’re such a dumbass bitch that you don’t even know that _you_ caused this. You see that camera?” Duncan points to the camera in the corner of the room that Stiles asked Derek to install. “I can see everything you and that fuckass Alpha have been doing. I can see your whole _house_. He can’t even pleasure you right. He ain’t no _Alpha.”_ Duncan’s eyes begin to bleed red.

“You hear me?!” Stiles nods quickly and turns his face so that he isn’t look the Alpha directly in the eyes.

“You’ve got on this beautiful, tight little outfit. That’s for _me._ ” All Stiles does to show that he even _hears_ the Alpha is nod. “Too bad you’re going to have to rip it off. I’m going to untie you, and you’re going to strip for me.”

Following through with his words, Duncan unties the rope, and Stiles finds out that it’s extremely difficult to stand. But he does stand.

Duncan smiles and says, “See, baby. We can have fun.” The Omega smiles weakly, as much as he can manage with tape on his face, as Duncan signals him to spin around.

 _“Slower.”_ He warns.

Stiles turns slowly.

_“Strip.”_

Stiles goes to untie the lacy cover-up, and nearly vomits as he sees Duncan grabbing himself through his pants. Once the sheer is on the ground, Stiles breathes and undoes the bra and underwear. As Stiles finishes stripping, Duncan begins to strip himself and pulls his erection out. Stiles cries once more and backs away. He freezes when he sees the deadly look Duncan is giving him.

The tape is secured on his mouth still, and Duncan steps up to rip it off, making Stiles yelp.

 

Duncan pushed Stiles down on his knees and held out his erection in front of his mouth, but the Omega wouldn’t open it. Sighing loudly, Duncan pinched the Omega’s nose harshly for a while, stepping on both of the Omega’s hands so that he couldn’t push away.

“I’ve seen you do it with the other Alpha, bitch, you can do it for me. Your _real_ Alpha.”

Stiles’s cheeks blow out as he tries to hold his breath, but ultimately, he can’t and when his mouth opens, it’s immediately violated by Duncan. Duncan pushes in and out roughly groaning at the way Stiles’s throat convulses around it. Everything seems to be going well, for the Alpha, at least, but on his first pullout, the Omega gags harshly and vomits over his own chest, crying and screaming. The Omega’s head is dizzy and is only getting worse, and the light is fading from his visions, straight lines turning into blurred ones.

“You can go to sleep, Omega, but I plan to use all of my tools,” he laughs darkly, and Stiles passes out.

 

 

John rings the doorbell for the second time as he tries to shush Jamie from bouncing around. It’s 11pm, and John doesn’t want Stiles to know how much sugar Jamie’s received tonight. “Jamie, calm down,” he laughs. It’s not unlikely that Stiles is asleep, so John decides to use his key. Jamie bursts in the house with no qualms and begins to shout for his Papa to hurry up in the house. John can’t keep quiet very well either, laughing at each little thing Jamie does and how he talks to himself about what a fun day they’ve had.

“Go put your pajamas on, bud. _Quietly._ ” John chides. Melissa comes in the house a few seconds later with the beach supplies from today.

“Ok, Papa!” They both chuckle.

“He’s going to wake Stiles up,” she sing-songs, beach curls still fresh. The two are in the kitchen when they hear a scream from Jamie.

_“MIMI! PAPA!”_

The two look at each other worriedly, and John is the first to rush upstairs to where he heard Jamie yell, Melissa quickly keep up behind him.

“PAPA!” Jamie yells and runs out of the room before he sees that his grandparents are already in the hall.

“Jamie, what—” he starts, and pauses when he sees blood and Jamie’s hands and clothes.

“Oh, my God,” Melissa whispers and clutches onto Jamie. “John, go check on Stiles. Now!”

The sheriff nods and runs into the room. Mel can hear an exasperated “Oh my God!” coming from the room, and she goes in to see Stiles on the bed, blood everywhere. She’s already dialing 9-1-1 by time, and Jamie sits in the hallway crying, smearing blood on his face.

“ _Stiles?! Stiles,_ honey, wake up,” the sheriff begs. The boy has blood coming from many places: his neck, his mouth and nose, and blood dripping down his thighs, along with something the sheriff can only assume is semen. He’s naked, and his eyes are blackened. His breathing is extremely slow along with his heart rate. Soon enough, there are paramedics in the room.

“Please, that’s my son! Please help him!” John begs, following the people putting Stiles on a lift and carrying it out of the house and there’s just so much _blood._

Melissa takes the sheriff’s car and drives a screaming Jamie back to their house. John stays in the ambulance with Stiles as they poke and prod at him and give him an oxygen mask.

All he can do is sit there, cry and pray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there seem to be any plot holes in this chapter, just know that, that is my plan and will get discussed later on. Poor Stiles .. :( Let me know of any mistakes. [IF ANYONE KNOWS HOW I CAN LINK THE PHOTOS OF STILES'S OUTFITS TO THE FIC, THEN PLEASE LET ME KNOW.] P.S, if you could not handle that scene, back out now, because there will be flashbacks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And in this chapter, you will see the true meaning of canon divergence. You'll also see a big plot twist.

There was nothing John could do but wait in the brightly lit halls and pace back and forth while Stiles was rushed to the ICU. Everything had been a blur, those past two hours. All he could remember was the smell of blood—the blood that covered his only child in a home that he and his own family worked night and day to pay off. All of it was now gone. Stiles would never be able to step foot in that house ever again. Hell, he’d be lucky if Stiles even _could_ walk—

“Mr. Stilinski?” A deep voice called out, immediately spurring John’s heart to pulse three times faster than before. Walk-running up to the medic, who had a solemn look on his face, John practically spilled questions, asking how Stiles was and if he could see him.

The surgeon was a Beta; tall and dark with shrunken curls and coils sticking from underneath his protective cap. The sheriff attempted to swallow down the lump in his throat when he saw the surgeon’s apron dotted with spots of darkened, now-brown blood. Other than that, he was clean.  In medical situations like Stiles’s, Alphas weren’t allowed to perform any kind of surgical procedures, as if they’d lose control and do something unthinkable to the Omega they were treating. Many people protested said law, as Alphas were the most qualified in the field of medicine. It’s not that Beta and Omega doctors and nurses weren’t knowledgeable, but they were overlooked and given less information, which often caused the downfall of their patients.

“We can’t tell you anything without the Omega’s Alpha being present,” the surgeon explained.

John stared long and hard at the man, who was much taller than he was, but that didn’t faze him at all.

“I’m the sheriff of this county and that is my son in there. His Alpha isn’t even here. Tell me something, _damn it._ ” He demanded scornfully with contempt in his voice, followed by a begging sorrow.

The surgeon sighed and stuck his finger up as a sign for “wait,” causing frustrated tears to burn John’s eyes, not understanding why the hell he couldn’t just know the basics of his son’s condition.

“Here,” the surgeon held out a packet of papers lined with bolded, black words that looked like it could be a will. “This is a confidentiality contract that states that the Alpha wasn’t present during the call of medical conclusion and that you’re the only eligible guardian available. This is necessary to avoid lawsuits.” Quickly grabbing a pen, and scribbling his name on every dotted line the contract contained without reading it, John handed the papers back and started towards Stiles’s hospital room before being stopped by a voice calling out.

“Sheriff, wait! Listen.” The surgeon—Dr. Keita he later learned—walked over to him and put his hand on John’s shoulder. “He’s on life support,” the man finally told. All the air John was somehow holding puffed out of his chest as he doubled over, hands on his knees. The man continued to speak. “He’d lost too much blood and his injuries are severe: rectal tearing; signs of large object penetration—perhaps from a hanger of some sort—bite and claw marks, signs of strangulation. One of his nails is split and his nose is fractured. We’ve ran a rape kit and it was sent to the lab. His heart rate was too elevated and his temperature was lessening. We had to medically-induce him. I’m deeply sorry, but he isn’t expected to wake up any time soon. My team and I did all that we could do. Waiting is all that we can do now.”

John was going to be sick. As the sheriff of fifteen years, he’d been through a lot. He’s been through this with people he didn’t know, and he’s been through this with his family; with Claudia, but he’s never been so scared to enter a hospital room until tonight. He’s never been alone like this. He’s ashamed of himself as the thought crosses his mind, thinking about Stiles being helpless, alone and scared.

And, suddenly, he’s in front of Stiles’s hospital bed.

He can only stare at the closed black eyes on his son’s face and the bandages, braces and tubes that litter his beautiful body. They have him positioned so that he’s angled and not laying on his bottom, and John grimaces at the insinuation. He steps closer to Stiles, pulling up a chair with him and sitting. He cautiously and carefully grabs Stiles’s hand that was previously planted under the heated blanket, unlike the one lain across his stomach—the one with the split nail. He caresses the pale hand that’s veins are evident and vivid, looking down, never realizing how small and fragile it appeared, especially with a giant IV stabbing through the vein there. Tears are burning their way through again, collecting before dropping onto the swimming trunks he’d worn during his day at the beach with Jamie and Melissa. The trunks are too bright, too busy for the situation at hand. They’re mocking, along with the noise of the cardiac monitor, which is now beating slowly, in contrast to how the doctor described his previous heart rate.

_Medically-induced coma._

_Isn’t expected to wake up soon._

_Stiles_

_Stiles_

_Stiles._

Derek.

 

 

 

“I want mama!” Jamie screamed loudly with fat tears streaming down his scarlet face. He pushed roughly against Melissa’s chest as she tried to calm him down. He would soon start to hyperventilate, and there was no way Melissa would allow Jamie to be in the same environment as Stiles—not this soon. Melissa felt like the personification of death, if she could describe whatever she was feeling in that way: hurt, nervous, petrified. She tried to give reassurances to Jamie, but it was obvious that she wasn’t confident in her own words. This six-year-old just witnessed something that he didn’t understand. Omegas matured quicker than Alphas and Betas, and usually at this age, presentation started for Omegas. They’d be sent to Omega classes and taught about the dangers of society and the abilities of their bodies, while the Alphas and Betas worked their way up in regular schooling classes. Considering this, Jamie most likely wouldn’t present as an Omega. He wouldn’t be learning about this in school; sexual predators and how to keep away from them and such, no. Unfortunately, he’d had to experience it secondhand.

The vibration of her cellphone jolted Melissa out of her thoughts, and she quickly accepted the call when she saw it was John.

“How is it?” She whisper-talked, trying to keep as calm as possible so not to trigger more crying from Jamie.

“I need you to call Derek and tell him to come back to California,” she heard John sign monotonously. His voice sounded raw and pained.

“Derek? You haven’t called Derek yet?”

“Daddy!” Jamie cried out and reached for the phone, only getting more angered by Melissa blocking his hands.

“James, hold on, please.” Melissa commanded sternly.

“It wasn’t exactly the first thing on my to-do, Melissa. Just—just call him.” And the line ended.

Jamie was on her lap, clutching at her chest for dear life, and she jumped when she felt a little pinprick of claws. The young boy’s ears were pointed just so.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. With that, she dialed Derek’s number, wondering exactly how she’d explain everything. It was ten at night, so he should be in his hotel by then. The phone rang until it reached voicemail.

“Damn it, Derek. Answer the phone right now.” She hung up and called again, shushing her grandson in the process and bouncing him on her lap.

“Melissa?” Derek answered, sounding like he’d just walked out of an over-capacitated room.

“Derek, something terrible has happened to Stiles,” she rushed out. “John and I were out with Jamie, and when we got back to the house, Jamie found Stiles—”

“Jamie found Stiles, _what_?” He was growling at this point, breathing hard into the receiver.

Covering Jamie’s ears, she told him what they’d saw. Soon, Derek was off the phone and on the next plane back to California.

Jamie had finally cried himself to sleep. His nose was red and runny, and his face was puffy with dried tear stains down to his chin. He was heavier than she remembered as she lifted him up to bring him to Stiles’s childhood bedroom. It was evident that he wouldn’t be sleeping in his own room any time soon. He squirmed in his sleep when she changed him into his night clothes. There was a night-light next to the dresser, and she flicked it on. Sighing to herself and thinking about how the day had been just perfect before, she wondered how it could all go wrong so quickly.

 

Derek didn’t arrive at the hospital until the next night. He was shifted into Beta form before he even entered the building and was asked to contain himself before entering. He was clearly distressed; his hair, which was uncombed and unkempt, could show for it. He shuffled to Stiles’s room. Never in his life could he not use his nose to find Stiles, except for this time. The sterile smell of the hospital burned his nose, and there were too many noises around to search for one specific heartbeat. He saw John in the hallway, walking towards the room with a cup of coffee in his hands. He looked older than normal, and if his outfit was to show for it, he hadn’t left the hospital since the night he came.

“John!” Derek called out. John had halted in his steps and turned to Derek when he heard his name being called. “Derek,” he sighed gratefully.

Derek felt like absolute shit, and couldn’t help but flash his eyes and growl every few minutes. Stiles was his anchor, and his anchor was hurt. He couldn’t find a way to think or speak as he looked at Stiles’s comatose body. John told him that he hadn’t moved since he’d been admitted. John had told him that Jamie was with Melissa and hadn’t seen Stiles yet.

Good, Derek thought. They—both Stiles and Jamie—have been through too much for Stiles to only be twenty-one.

A beautiful nurse with brown skin and brunette hair by the name of Morrell had been in and out of the room to check Stiles’s vitals and change his bedding.  

“How is he? Any progress?” Derek asked gruffly.

“He’s breathing better on his own. His temperature is good. Other than that, it’s unlikely we’ll see progress so soon. I’m terribly sorry this had to happen. Way too often, if we’re being honest,” she replied.

“Do you have any other immediate concerns about his condition?”

John scoffed at that.

“What about—” Derek started, “the baby?”

“The baby? We won’t be able to know that until a few more—”

Derek grew angered just thinking of the notion.

“Not that. The baby. His and _my_ baby. Our baby.”

Morrell paused, “I’m sorry, but there was no evidence of a pregnancy.”

 

 

*

 

Stiles Stilinski loved to dream about nature, and what it represented and the stories it told. His mother used to tell him that it came with the Omega package—loving the land and being able to connect with it in ways that other people could, which is why he could never understand why Omegas were to be kept in the house to cook and clean and do everything so mechanically. He never understood why it was the Alphas who’d be the ones to stay outside and guard the land when the Omegas had a better chance of keeping away the predator with slight persuasion. It all went back to the dynamic-segregation laws.

His mother used to tell him that things would one day be different for them and everyone would love each other, not use one’s dynamic to tear and beat them down. She’d tell him things like that on his way to his special Omega progression classes. The city, of course, made them teach specific things and have them tested on those things from kindergarten to high school, but at the end of every class, the teachers would make them share their dreams and thoughts of the world. Every Omega would talk about nature.

Growing up, Stiles progressively would stray away from wandering outdoors. Many Omegas seemed to be disappearing from thin air or found abused behind buildings. He wasn’t sure if it was a new thing, or just something he’d noticed with growing up.

Since then, Stiles had been a more _stay-in-the-house_ kind of guy.

He was thirteen when he first saw Derek Hale, who had been twenty-five at the time. He’d been on the playground outside with his friend, Scott McCall. Scott hadn’t presented yet, which meant that he’d be a Beta or an Alpha. Stiles was leaning more of the side of an Alpha, because whenever someone picked on him, Scott was there to defend his honor. Like when someone was teasing Stiles about his voice being too high and girly for his age, Scott yelled, “well I bet his dick is still bigger than yours!” Ever since then, that person had never messed with Stiles again. But that was only one instance of many.

Anyway, they were on the swing set. Scott was on the regular swing, and Stiles was in the toddler swing. One, because they’re fun as hell, and two, because he was small enough to still fit with little struggle. Scott had been going on about someone named Allison that went to another, school, but Stiles was leaning back and staring at the trees in the distance. It was a windy day, and Stiles was only allowed outside because he’d finished his homework. His face turned slowly when he heard a voice come up toward the playground. He saw someone, a girl younger than them, fall and start digging through the mulch. Stiles scrunched his face up, wondering why the hell anyone would want to play with smelly, sharp pieces of dirt.

“She’s a werewolf,” Scott explained, shortening the height of his swings.

“So are you. Why is she playing in mulch?” Stiles asked quietly.

“It’s probably something she normally does,” he shrugged.

“Do _you_ want to play in the mulch, Scotty?”

“No, I’m okay on the swings,” he laughed. “Someone else is here. I can hear them.”

“That’s my brother!” The girl’s voice called out. “He’s sitting on the bottom of the slide!”

“She heard us!” Stiles squeaked.

“I can _still_ hear you, too!” The girl shouted back.

Scott chuckled and shook his head. “Hey, I have to go back home now. The street lights are on. Are you gonna leave, too?”

Stiles thought about it. Even though the street lights were on, it was still pretty bright outside. Plus, his house was right across the street. “Nah, I’m gonna stay here for a little bit.”

Scott walked off, and Stiles turned his head back to look at the forest again. He wasn’t ever allowed in there. The kid wolves went in there all the time. Scott told him it wasn’t all that, but Stiles suspected it was to spare his feelings. The forest always released a scent of pine and wood that Stiles longed for. He wanted to know what was back there.

“Hey, kid!” Stiles blinked his wide eyes when he saw that the girl was standing right in front of him. He was still gently swinging back and forth.

“I’m older than you.” Stiles muttered.

“Which is why you should let me use that swing,” she insisted, “you can use the other swing. My brother can push you. He doesn’t mind.” Stiles thought about it. He didn’t want a stranger pushing him, but he was sick of swinging anyway.

“Fine.”

Stiles held onto the chains of the swing and tried to lift his self out of the swing chair. He tugged several times before finding that he was stuck. He began to panic, because _of course_ as soon as Scott left he’d be stuck for the first time ever.

“Hang on. I’ll go get my brother to help.”

Stiles watched as a large, opaque shadow increasingly covered the fresh mulch. His eyes widened when he saw a man much bigger than he was follow his sister to where Stiles was. The man had shorn dark auburn hair and a clean-shaven jaw. The build of his shoulders were wide and strong, and Stiles had the urge to curl away as he got closer and closer.

“Hold your arms out and relax your legs.”

The man was a lot older. Too old for those words to have struck Stiles the way they did, and the Alpha cleared his throat, most likely smelling the pheromones Stiles was accidentally emitting.

“Eww. You smell like the way Derek does when he comes back from his girlfriend’s house,” Cora complained and plugged her small nose.

“Cora!” Derek growled, quieting her.

Stiles did as the Alpha— _Derek,_ apparently— told him to do. He relaxed his legs, but that didn’t stop his heart from pounding.

“Sorry, I’m not tryin’ to—”

“It’s fine.”

It took a minute, but Stiles eventually made his way out of the swing seat. His hands were gripped against the Alpha’s shoulder, which were as strong as they looked. His feet were still above ground and Derek’s hands were firm under his arms. He was face-to-face with him now and he was mesmerized by his eyes. They were a green color that reminded him of the forest during sunrise, but they were also a grey color that made him think of the first snow he’d ever seen when he’d went to Poland.

“Eyes,” Stiles whispered, amazed.

“What?”

“I—I like your eyes.”

Derek grinned shyly, and _what_?

“I think have to go home now.” He began.

Derek gently set him down, still staring at him with thick, confused brows.

Cora was seated inside of the swing now, but improperly so. She didn’t have her feet through the slots, but she looked on with bored eyes.

“No you’re not. We just got here! C’mon, Derek will push you,” she smiled brightly.

Stiles was shivering in excitement and nervousness at this point, for several different reasons. He saw Derek walk around in preparation to push Stiles, and Stiles didn’t want his steps to be taken for granted and wasted. He sat on the cold, rickety seat and Derek started to push him. “Not too high, please…it makes my stomach hurt.”

He and Cora talked back and forth for a little while. She had her hair cut to her shoulders with a small bang rested on her forehead. Stiles had never seen her before. He and Scott were in sixth grade, but he learned that Cora was in fifth. He also learned that Cora liked many of the same movies and games that Stiles did. Derek added his commentary very few times, but it was significantly less awkward than it was before. Claudia had called him in for dinner, soon enough, and he promised that he’d be back outside the next day, bringing Scott with him.

*

Stiles ran faster and faster into the fields of grass until he reached the border of the woods. A rumbling growl interrupted his thoughts. He tensed and held his breath. Goosebumps pop all over his skin. He’s never been this close to the woods, and now he’s right next to a shifted wolf. He stays crouched as a large, black wolf appears with red eyes. Stiles immediately looks down, something he was taught to do in his Omega classes. The wolf huffs and Stiles looks back up. It continues huffing, shoulders shaking as if the wolf was laughing. It slides its paws down on the still-dewy grass and rolls over on its back. Stiles laughs in relief and pounces on the wolf. They end up rolling in the grass and the wolf is finally un-shifted.

Derek buries his face in Stiles’s neck, a common thing Weres do in greetings and salutations.

“Why do you smell like that?” He asks, voice still hard from being in wolf form.

“You have to take me in the woods,” Stiles ignores the question.

“Why, Stiles?”

Stiles stared at Derek as his stomach cramps harder. Derek stood so beautifully out here like this. His genuine concern for Stiles and their friendship had increased throughout the year, and eventually he was as much of Stiles’s friend as Cora or even Scott were.

“I’m going into heat. You have to take me into the woods. I can do this at home. My mom—she’s having a moment. I don’t know what’s been going on with her, but Dad’s out of town. They’ll never know. You don’t have to do anything…just guide me through there,” Stiles affirmed as he pointed to the thick woods that completely blocked the sun.

“Where do you want me to take you?”

“Where you always go,” Stiles answered simply.

Derek shifted back, and guided Stiles into the unknown.

Stiles’s heart was pumping like crazy, and every time he heard a noise, he gripped Derek’s fur as if it were his only lifeline. It was cold in the woods. Stiles was dressed in lounge pants and regular T-shirt that clung to him like a second skin. They stopped every few minutes when Stiles’s heat cramps grew increasingly worse. Derek whined whenever Stiles did. He led them to a cave that was bedded and safe, away from the rest of the woodland creatures.

“What do you want me to do? You know I can’t help you, Stiles…that’s illegal.”

“Just shut up and hold my hand,” Stiles grinded out.

 He never expected his heat to hit like this. He woke up that morning with sticky thighs and wet hair. His dreams had been vivid and contained a certain Alpha in them. His first thought was to call Scott, but it was too early in the morning to be calling on a Saturday. He wasn’t prepared at all. He had no partner. Usually with first heats, Omegas would stay with their parents and wait it out. They didn’t last more than two days, but they were ruthless. There was something wrong with his mother. She’d been yelling at him and spewing words that he knew she didn’t mean. Every night his dad called to check on them, though, he didn’t tell.

**

The day of his mom’s death, she’d told him something important. His dad wasn’t there. He was at work, trying to pay off the hospital bills that collected and filled their mailbox. Stiles seemed to always be alone.

“Stiles, kochanie, you have to listen to me, ok?” Claudia confided weakly, “We have something special, you know.”

“’Megas?” Stiles sniffed as he clutched his mother’s cold hand. Her clutch was nowhere near as strong, but that didn’t mean Stiles hadn’t felt every bit of it.

“No, honey. Us. You, me and my family. We can feel things better than other people. We _know_ things before other people do. You just have to trust yourself, ok? Always trust your instincts. Your dreams aren’t _just_ dreams. They mean something, and whenever you feel like you need to let someone know about them, you _tell_ them. For their sake and yours. Don’t ever hold back.”

**

_“We’re at the mall now. I’m giving you specific instructions, so listen and listen well. I left the house key with you, so you should be able to get in. They don’t have any alarms set. Derek should be on his flight to Ohio by now, so you need to do this tonight. Make it messy. I want him to suffer.”_

_***_

  
Stiles’s eyes blinked open as wide as they could. He groaned when he felt that one of his eyes was in terrible pain. He knew where he was. The sounds around him were so familiar; they were basically imprinted into his memory. He didn’t remember what he did to be here, though. He moved to get into a better position on his back, and his breath sharpened immensely. The monitor’s beeping beside him gained velocity. Tremble was all he could do. As soon as he turned, there was a harsh pain inside of him that immediately reminded him of why he was here, and he was soon sobbing loudly. The door slammed open, and his face was cradled in the hands of his Alpha. He heard the voice of his father and his baby boy, followed by many voices telling them to back away. There were nurses and doctors that were asking him too many questions at once, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes in frustration. He was gone again.

 

 

He woke up again, and he felt a cool buzz looming over him. He was no longer in the pain that he’d suffered through when he awoke the first time.

“Mama!” Jamie shouted and ran over to Stiles just before Derek caught him and picked him up.

“Hey, hey how do you feel? Do you need something? Water?” Derek asked, rubbing his hand across his mate’s forehead.

Stiles stared at him, almost looking right through him, switching his eyes from Derek to Jamie.

“’S he doing ‘ere,” Stiles choked out before having a harsh coughing fit. “’Get ‘im out,” he muttered. It was obvious that Jamie couldn’t understand what he was saying, so he continued to call out for Stiles.

Stiles just shook his head and turned away from them. He didn’t want his son seeing him like this. He was embarrassed to even be in the same room as him, let alone Derek.

Jamie screamed when Melissa came in the room to carry him out, and tears streamed from Stiles’s eyes as his son was taken away from him at his own request. Derek seemed to understand, and reached out to grab Stiles’s hand to no avail.

“No,” Stiles asserted. “Derek.”

The Alpha nearly tripped over his own feet to get on the other side of the bed where Stiles was facing. The Omega had his head covered by the hospital blanket and Derek’s heart broke knowing how ashamed Stiles must’ve been.

“Yes, b—” Derek was straying away from pet names, not knowing how they may affect Stiles and his recovery, “yes, Stiles?”

“Saw sun-thin’.” His voice was nearly gone from the abuse and underuse it went through.

“You saw something?”

“Dream. Saw sun-thin’.

“What did you see in your dream, Stiles? You can tell me.”

Stiles released his grip on the blanket and brought it down to his chin, mouthing a name that could be no other than, “Lydia.”

_Lydia._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would never go a month without updating, but I was without internet access for a bit. Ask me if you are confused about anything. Also, who DIDN'T watch Teen Wolf last Tuesday? lol


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should apologize for...something.

_Lydia?_

Derek had no idea what that meant, not really sure why the girl was brought up. He wasn’t sure if Stiles was implying that he wanted to see Lydia or what, but that was unlikely, seeing as how the Omega rejected everyone who came to visit him, including their young son who may be just as emotionally scarred. Derek allowed hurried peeks into the hospital room when Stiles was asleep, which was most of the day. Jamie would cry and reach out for him, asking  Derek why couldn’t he talk to his Mama.

Stiles had woken up recently from the sleep-inducing medication. His eye was still frosted yellow around the edges, but the swelling had gone down significantly. He stayed noiseless as usual when the practitioners came into the room to assess him for the day. Although Derek was his Alpha, Stiles would always ask him to leave while they evaluated him. So, Derek usually did, reluctantly, to say the least. Going easy on Stiles was something he’d always had trouble doing in situations as dire as this one, where the Omega wouldn’t listen to reason. But if Stiles says, “no,” although it’s law that the Alpha maintains the decision-making role in an Alpha-Omega relationship, then Derek will follow suit and respect his wishes. Now more than ever.

Every day entailed the same routine. Stiles would stay asleep while Derek dubbed the hospital as his second home. Scott would check in every few days, bringing Allison along with him occasionally. The rest of the pack would stay at their respective houses and text Derek about updates. He thought he’d seen Lydia’s license plate, but the car didn’t match, so Derek left it alone.

Melissa or John would switch roles in watching Jamie, then come to the hospital and leave Derek with a home-cooked meal, which Derek would avoid eating until the last possible second. Jamie would often tell his grandpa that he had nightmares; needed to sleep in the “big bed” every night with them he and Melissa. It broke Derek’s heart to hear about it, and know how shattered his family had become in such a short matter of time.

Melissa was currently working at the front desk and not her usual position as an assistant to the doctors. Jamie was with John for the day. His position as county sheriff provided him with several benefits, including a better chance to take paid time off, and the squad team absolutely understood why he needed this break. He wasn’t able to work on Stiles’s case officially, but at least he could do some type of investigation from home, all the while watching his grandson.  

Derek walked over to the woman he considered, like Stiles, his mother, taking the offered coffee she held in her warm hands.

“How’s he keeping up today?” She breathed out, forehead wrinkling with worry lines that seemed to be a permanent feature on everyone’s face as of lately.

“They’re in there with him right now. Not sure yet,” he grounded out lowly, voice tired and gritty from lack of use. “He was moving around a lot more in his sleep and didn’t wake up in a lot of pain, so that’s good. Better. We should be finding out when he can walk again soon.” Stiles, since he woke up, told both Derek and the nurses that he had no recollection of who assaulted him. He seemingly had no memory of the entire night.

Melissa nodded her head as she listened to what Derek was saying. “Well how are you keeping up yourself, huh?” The lobby wasn’t as busy today as usual. She poured herself some coffee and walked over to where Derek was standing to get a better feel of the conversation at hand.

The Alpha sighed and gulped down the semi-scorching liquid, letting it burn down his throat before he answered. “I’ll be okay when Stiles is okay,” he said, which prompted Melissa into giving him sad eyes, silently saying something that they were all thinking.

He’s not going to be okay for a long time. Maybe never.

When Stiles and Derek’s relationship began, way back when, Stiles would always talk about family and how he aspired to be the best caretaker Beacon Hills had ever witnessed. He wanted to be someone that his family could depend on, and it wasn’t because he was an Omega. It was just that he had a family-oriented trait. After his mother died, Stiles stayed silent for a while. When he and Derek would meet in their secret places, he’d say how he wished Derek could have met her, and that Claudia would’ve been fine with their relationship, because she was also an Omega. She would have understood. Because of that Derek has always felt that Stiles resented him a bit for waiting until it was too late.

 

 

The nurses came from the room, dismally filing out one by one, subtly avoiding the Alpha’s intense stare. He looked back at Melissa who seemed just as curious as he was, and then intently disposed of the Styrofoam cup, striding his way back to the four walls Stiles was assigned to. He opened the stiff door and stepped inside. When he turned to face reality, Stiles was sitting up and staring at blank space, his lips tilted slightly upwards. He stayed unblinking until his icy hands were cupped into Derek’s, immediately absorbing the warmth emitted from the opposite pair. Stiles’s gaze switched.

“Hi,” he tried.

That, in itself, surprised Derek. “Hey…good news, I’m guessing?” He asked hopefully. Stiles made some sort of humming noise and his eyes wandered back over to the wall, glazed and unfocused.

“Good news?” Stiles whispered softly, “You weren’t listening?”

Confusion overcame Derek as he watched the many emotions reflect off of Stiles’s face. Stiles knew he hadn’t been listening, because Stiles asked him _not_ to listen in.

“How could you not have heard that? They said it so loudly.” His voice was gaining fervor now, and his hands, still incased in Derek’s, were beginning to sweat steadily. The yellow bruise on the Omega’s battered face was became more prominent as Stiles’s skin paled. “They said it so loudly.”

“What did they say, baby?” Derek had to level his voice and school his eyebrows, as not to scare Stiles into thinking he was being intimidating.

_“Baby_ … _”_ Stiles whispered with a hint of disgust, causing Derek to grimace in apology. He was avoiding using pet names in which a specialist advised him not to do. Derek didn’t audibly apologize; he just tightened his hold on Stiles and tracked his thumb gently across the back of The Omega’s hand, avoiding the needle that dug into it. It was signal for him to continue talking. His heart rate hadn’t spiked up, so that was a positive sign.

“They told me I should try to start being active today. Move around through the hallways and stuff. I have to use a walker, though. Obviously,” he gave a watery chuckle.

Derek sighed in relief. The Omega sauntered over on the bed to make a space for Derek. It was early afternoon, so Derek looked forward to helping his mate regain mobility later that day. He was happy to see Stiles’s color coming back.

“Have you eaten any today?” Derek questioned, carefully reaching over to grab the remote that Stiles was silently asking for.

“Only the stuff coming through these tubes,” Stiles answered back tiredly. He turned the television on to a random channel and lowered the volume so that there’d be a white noise in the background.

He had a look on his face that told Derek that not everything was properly being said. Stiles was still holding back on something, maybe everything.

“Stiles, what aren’t you telling me? You know you can tell me anything…just—just don’t keep me in the dark. Not at a time like this…please.” Stiles peered into Derek’s sea green gaze, almost as if he was trying to search for his own reflection in Derek’s dark pupils.

A warm heat immediately was felt rushing to the Omega’s face, and his nose began to sting; an indication that an onset of tears were arriving. The clear, salty liquid filled his eyes and it spilled over in steady cascades. He shook his head and turned the TV back off, feeling like a child for using it as some kind of diversion. His head was still foggy. His lips, two different colors, bottom one red from being overly-bitten and top one ashen from dehydration. Derek made a mental note to get him something cool to drink later.

“Do you still love me?” Stiles rasped out, promptly covering his face to hide further tears after he said it. His shoulders were shoved inward and shaking with the force of his sobs, and this, Derek thought, was what Stiles had been holding back for the past two weeks. He hadn’t cried at all like this since that night.

Derek felt completely heartbroken as he watched his mate fall apart at the seams. Carefully, he gathered Stiles into his strong arms and cupped the back of his head, perfectly slotting his Omega’s head into his neck. “Of course I love you. I’ll never stop loving you, Stiles. We’re in this together, always.” Sentiment was something that only came out when Derek was around Stiles. Derek couldn’t imagine being without someone so essential to his life.

Stiles’s brunette locks hid Derek’s face as he lifted his head slightly and swiped his nose across the fabric covering Derek’s shoulder. “Really?” His doe-eyes were glimmering with glints of dejection, but a sense of hopefulness was buried somewhere in there that Derek hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Why wouldn’t I? What’s going on?”

Stiles swallowed audibly, head dipping into his hands once more. “They said I’ve caught something. He _gave me_ something…”

And, _Jesus_.

Derek was absolutely enraged, and it was reflected by the tips of his ears, now ombre red, but he molded his expression into one that Stiles wouldn’t cower away from. Although he didn’t remember who attacked him, he still felt the weakness and sensitivity that came with an Alpha overexerting an Omega.

The house was blocked off for investigation. Derek was only able to obtain some of his office work and clothes for Jamie. Other than that, he didn’t want anything to do with his and Stiles’s bedroom. _Whoever this sick bastard_ _is_ , Derek made a promise to himself mentally, _I’m going to rip his throat out with my teeth._

“Well, we—they can do something, right? There’s medicine for it, isn’t there?”

A loud, sobbing laugh bellowed from the Omega’s mouth. “It’s not something you can just get rid of. Not exactly.”

“What is it _exactly_?” Patience was running low. He didn’t want to rush Stiles into telling him anything too soon, but a sexually transmitted infection was a serious ordeal. They had the money to pay for any vaccine the city’s hospitals could carry, and he was determined to make Stiles feel as “back-to-normal” as the Omega’s body would allow, as soon as possible.

It was quiet for a few minutes. Only the sounds of machines and the ambiance from outside were audible.

“They told me…that I’m almost two weeks _pregnant_ , Derek,” Stiles choked out and clung to Derek, cheeks slippery with tears and red with embarrassment and shame.

_No, no, no…_

Derek’s mind was racing; his breaths were coming out in short bursts. Stiles, too, was hyperventilating. Strings of snot were running from his nose and into his mouth, and his eyes widened when Derek took the grip of his hands from his body. He gagged and choked from the intensity of his crying when Derek started to rise from the bed and start towards the door.

“Please don’t! Don’t leave!” Stiles’s initial reaction was desperation. He looked down to rip the IV from his hand, pulling it quick like a Band-Aid and squealing painfully when it came out. He writhed on the bed, trying to carefully maneuver himself so that his leg brace was proper and stable on the ground. Every movement caused him to groan. There was an obvious commotion in the hallway. People were yelling and being told to “back away, don’t mess with him.” Stiles was breathing horridly and his chest was positively burning from lack of proper oxygen. Blackness filled the white void of the hospital room and the acidic burn of vomit made itself known.

Stiles looked up and found Melissa’s face staring down at him, along with several other nurses surrounding her. That was when he realized he was on the ground.

“Stiles, calm down”

“He needs his Alpha”

“That _was_ his Alpha”

“His hand is bleeding”

“He’s in shock”

“Wasn’t ready to walk today”

“He hasn’t eaten”

“This is what’s wrong with Alpha-Omega couples”

“He’s going to throw up again”

“Don’t grab him, he’s a rape victim”

“He’s pregnant, he should be in bed”

_Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant._

“I’M SORRY!” Stiles screamed as loud as he could. He didn’t know if he was screaming for Derek to come back or to shut the nurses up. He didn’t know if he was screaming for Jamie or his father. He didn’t know if he was screaming for his mother or for Lydia. He didn’t know if he was screaming to God or the Devil.

“Please, please, please, I’m sorry…”

And the world was grey.

 

 

 

*

“Stilinski, what in the _hell_ were you thinking?!”

“What was _I_ thinking? What was your twenty-five-year-old brother thinking when he was sticking his penis inside of me?! You’re older than he is, didn’t you teach him this stuff?!”

“Fuck!”

“You guys, I think this could be a good thing.”

_“Shut up, Cora!”_

Stiles’s earth shook when as he watched the pregnancy test produce a second, opaque pink line in which indicated that he was pregnant. Some people waited after they peed on it, got a glass of water or put a load of laundry in the wash. But Stiles, no, he stared at the test from start to finish, praying to whoever was listening that it was a dud.

And then he took one more. And then another.

Three positive pregnancy tests sat on the counter of Laura Hale’s bathroom. Stiles talked to Cora about it before they came to Laura. He’d been feeling cranky and bloated, breaking out suddenly when he usually had no acne. Getting up in the middle of the night to vomit his brains out was not something he could use the “I have the 24-hour flu” excuse for any longer. His father would wake up in the middle of the night each night and give him a cool towel that he’d set on Stiles’s forehead until he fell asleep. Stiles would always be drifting away when he heard his father whisper that he wishes his mother was here.

 

 

He, Cora and Scott always sat together at lunch and at the library. They had the perfect Alpha-Beta-Omega dynamic. They’d tell each other anything and everything, the gross and beautiful things that came with each of their genders. When Stiles started feeling tell-tale pregnancy symptoms, he immediately skipped Scott and went to Cora. Some things he just couldn’t tell Scott yet, like his relationship with Derek, someone eleven years his senior.

“So you want _me_ to get _my_ _older sister_ to get _you_ a box of pregnancy tests and _not_ tell her about you and Derek? Or, you know, _Derek himself_?” Cora questioned eyebrows thick and furrowed as she stuffed a slice of pizza in her mouth.

“Yes, for the eleventh time,” Stiles breathed out, cheek squished against his balled up hand.

“Fine. Meet me at my house after school,” she agreed.

After the dismissal bell rang, Stiles power-walked home and drank as much water as he could before walking to Cora’s house. Laura was cool. He met her a few months after him meeting Cora and Derek at the park when they were in elementary school. Now they’re in ninth grade and Stiles and Derek have had unprotected sex more times than Lydia Martin could count. Still, he never figured he’d end up pregnant. His father would kill him.

The Hales had a large house. Only Cora, Laura and Derek lived there, because it was a vacation home. The rest of the family lived in New York. Cora insisted that going to school in California would give her so many more opportunities than in New York, though. Stiles was nervous as he knocked on the door. Cora answered it and assured Stiles that Derek wasn’t home. She told him Laura was waiting in the bathroom.

And she was. With an angered expression and her arms crossed.

“God, you’re an idiot,” she muttered under her breath and tossed Stiles a box full of the tests.

After the tests showed up positive and all three of them began crying, Laura softened up and snuggled them into a bear hug. “It’s okay, Cupcakes, we’re in this together,” she said.

They were all comfortably warm and sandwiched together when Laura’s head snapped up and she began to sniff around.

“Mayday, mayday,” she said and quickly snatched the test in her hand. “Shoo, shoo! Get out, Derek’s home,” she whispered urgently.

Both Stiles and Cora ran out of the en suite and under Laura’s bed where there was space.

Moments later, the sound of footprints indicated that Derek had come into the room.

“Hey, Laur,” he said, and paused when he saw her frozen in place with the tests sticking through her fingers, mimicking Wolverine claws. He sniffed the air similarly to what Laura did minutes earlier. “Why are you holding used pregnancy tests?” He said, his nose lifted in disgust.

“Um…I’m pregnant?” Laura tried. “Yep, your big sister’s been knocked up. You’re gonna be an Uncle soon, congratulations…to me!” She smiled, but she knew she probably looked like she had gas.

Derek took his leather jacket off and threw it across Laura’s bedspread. “Hmm…” He rubbed his hand across his chin. “Not only are you a lesbian, but that was the worst acting I’ve seen since Mom took us to Cora’s middle school play.”

_“Hey!”_ A voice erupted from underneath the bed.

“You absolute fucking loser, Cora!” Laura yelled, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. Cora come from under the bed and gave a creaky smile to Derek. “Hey, Der Bear, what’s up?”

“Who else is under there?” He demanded. Now that he was paying attention, he was aware of a second heart beat.”

It was silent until Stiles sighed heavily and revealed himself. “Hi.”

“Stiles?” Derek would usually be able to sniff Stiles out in a crowd of three hundred people, but he smelled strange this time, different. “Why do you smell like that?”

The silence continued to stretch out. Derek looked from the pregnancy tests to Stiles and stiffened, “You…”

“Me.” Stiles huffed out and sat on the bed, defeated.

Cora and Laura gently left the room as everything came together.

“You’re pregnant.” It wasn’t a question. “God, you’re pregnant, _of course_ you are. Fuck!” Derek visibly angered, as did Stiles, who rose from the bed and stood chest to chest with Derek. Well, more like chest to stomach.

“ _You’re_ the one who got me pregnant, Derek, I wasn’t just sleeping around!”

“I knew it. Knew we shouldn’t have done this, knew you were too young,” Derek muttered, pacing side-to-side in stress.

“Too young?! You’re the one who tells me how mature I am! Y-you’re the one who insisted we fuck raw!”

“I told you that you should’ve been on some type of suppressant to slow your horny ass down!” Derek countered, nostrils wide and displaying anger.

“You weren’t saying that when I was screaming on your knot last week, you dick!”

The door slammed back open and Laura was in the entranceway with Cora looking scarred and wide-eyed behind her. “That was way more than we needed or wanted to hear,” she said nodding to herself.

“Get the hell out!” Derek barked, eyes turning a hot ember.

She scoffed loudly, looking baffled and genuinely offended, “this is my room, you prick!”

Everyone ended up arguing for so long, when it was over, they all looked behind them to see Cora sitting cross-legged and eating popcorn. “Oh, does anybody want popcorn?”

 

 

In the end, Stiles and Derek ended up cuddling on the couch as they all watched a movie and ate the popcorn.

Derek kissed the top of Stiles’s forehead and held him tighter.

_“We’re in this together.”_

*

 

Stiles woke up and smacked his lips together, tasting the foul aftertaste of sour bile. His eyes were slightly swollen from crying, which, great.

“Mama?” He heard a small and scaredvoice, one that he hadn’t heard in a long time, one that broke his already fractured heart.

He turned to his right, and behind the clutter of tubes and wires, he saw his little boy, sitting on the lap of a leather jacked-wearing, amber-haired angel with bright green eyes and sharp, black eyeliner.

Laura.

“Hey, Cupcake,” she smiled quietly, tucking a tuft of hair behind Jamie's ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many people sent in comments saying, "please, don't make Stiles get pregnant with Duncan's baby," but this is the plot I wanted and I'm sorry if it's too much for you. Thanks for sticking around for this long, and sorry for being late and for any errors :)  
> P.S. No, Laura isn't dead.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola, muchachos. Sorry I took so long to update. My parents broke up, so I was kind devastated.  
> Anyway, the first scene is a flashback :) I did not have the strength to proof-read the entire thing. Also sorry for not being consistent with the tenses sometimes lol :)

**

The hour was late, and the air was brisk and sharp, causing anyone who wasn’t prepared to have rose-stained cheeks. Surrounding neighborhoods of Beacon Hills County were quiet and tranquil, because all of its residents, including Cora and Derek, were at the community college’s tournament basketball game.

Laura and Stiles stayed home and were sat on the L-shaped sofa in the Hale family den, skipping through channels airing overplayed episodes and discussing family methods. Laura recently bought a large quantity of supplies and clothes to help Stiles out with his little bundle. Everything was lain out in front of the pair, along with some tortilla chips and the chilled glass of wine Laura was nursing. Stiles felt a bit nauseated. Not because he was carrying, but because his father was still unaware that Derek was the father of Stiles’s baby.

_It was getting pretty hard to hide his four-months bump in a public setting, so he had to tell his father about being pregnant quickly. It was one thing to wear seven layers of clothing to a school with iffy air conditioning, but it was another to wear that same amount of layers in a house that usually coasted in the warmer temperatures. Had he hidden it any longer from the person legally responsible for his medical issues, it may have caused risks. Being an Omega, Stiles needed even more comfort and affection than usual, and with his dad being out of the house to work day through night shifts, Stiles craved it then more than ever. Of course, his father had cried, screamed at him and demanded answers of who the father was and when he even partnered with someone during a heat. Stiles wouldn’t tell him. It was less of a refusal, and more of an internal battle with “should” or “shouldn’t.” Afterwards, John walked out on Stiles. It was his one day off during the week, and he was hours away from his home and his son._

_When returning later into the evening and after having a stern talking to with Stiles, he hugged and kissed him. Being a sheriff, execution of penalization came easy to his one and only kid, but there was nothing he could do to punish Stiles. Hitting him was immediately crossed off the list. And what would taking away electronics for nine months do? After a day of isolation and thinking, John came up with the only liable solution he could think of._

_When out of the house, Stiles was only allowed at school and back home, and sometimes_ — _with open permission_ — _he was able to visit Scott_ _. Many times, Melissa would be the one to get off of work and take Stiles to an obstetrician. The excitement she had for Stiles made up for the anger his father previously emitted, but the Omega could still see the rueful look in Melissa’s eyes. She’d had Scott far too early, and Stiles knew that she wished better for him._

The Hale den was bright and spacious—large enough for multiple packs to settle into, but a decent enough size for a small group of newcomers not to feel intimidated. A giant flat-screen was installed on the rust-shaded walls. Stiles was dressed in a nightgown—his usual attire, as he kept an assortment of various clothing sets for several occasions there. Being best friends with Cora also meant frequent sleepovers with at her home. The two were inseparable, and it was even seen as more acceptable to hang out with her over Scott, seeing as how they were growing up and sprouting everywhere. Plus, Scott was an Alpha. Had Stiles and Scott not known each other since they were in the womb, it would have been entirely inappropriate to hang out as much as they did. Scott was the first to be questioned about Stiles’s pregnancy, much to both he and the Omega’s displeasure. After those few uncomfortable minutes, John released him.

Stiles wasn’t allowed to visit the Hales. John wanted to keep it on the “DL” from the Hale Alphas, which, _ha._ And although teen pregnancies were common in the Omega community, John didn’t want Laura and Derek to think that Stiles was a negative influence on Cora, which, _double ha._

Laura was caressing her manicured fingers through Stiles’s auburn locks as he sat in the ‘V’ of her legs, rubbing his belly with admiration. He bit his bottom lip, looking at the neutral-colored bibs and bonnets rested on the glass table, not yet ready to face them. He burrowed further into Laura’s warmth and started to make a sound that was closest compared to a purr as she began to gently scratch his scalp. Being pregnant, Stiles— _thankfully_ —wouldn’t have any upcoming heats for a while, but receiving the proper affection from any Alpha was just as pleasurable and intimate.

“We should set up a nursery here, babe,” Laura voiced, reaching in front of Stiles to get the salty assortment of restaurant-style tortilla chips they were feasting on, not being careful about the resulting mess of crumbs.

“There would be no point, Laura,” Stiles responded faintly, turning his body so that he had a better visual of the _Adult Swim_ channel _._ “Daddy can’t know.”

“John already knows you’re best friends with Ugly,” she snorted, referencing her little sister, Cora. “He won’t suspect a thing. Besides, your family is here. Both figuratively and literally...huh.” Her tongue rimmed the perimeter of the inside of her lip as the realization dawned on her.

At this point, _Family Guy_ is on, and Stiles really just wants to stop talking about the baby as a whole, for once. Kind of pretend that he doesn’t have this bundle of added weight resting on his abdomen.

“Less talk-y, more _Family Guy_ ,” he grunted.

Seeing the cause of avoidance, Laura took the remote and clicked for the television to power off. Stiles instantly began to mewl, knowing that Laura was about to give some type of lecture that involved the “Hale Brows.” Slickly ascending, he grabbed the throw blanket from the arm of the couch that was previously occupied by two (read: three), and made a beeline for upstairs. Upon hearing Laura following quickly behind, he burst into a run (read: you couldn’t even call that a power-walk) to the stairwell, trying to reach his proclaimed bedroom (read: Derek’s).

Compared to an Alpha, he was slower and less swift, and him being pregnant put him in an even lesser position to be titled the next Speed Racer, so when Laura easily ran in front of the steps to block him, Stiles gave up. He allowed himself to be lifted bodily and carried back to the couch. Normally, Laura would slam him down in a similar occurrence, but since becoming an new Aunt, she had promised to be less _her._

“You _need_ to talk about this,” she chided, her dark brown eyebrows high and sharply arched in an “I mean business” manner. And, _ugh,_ Stiles _knew_ they were coming.

“No, we really don’t. Especially not at 9 p.m. on a Friday night while Derek isn’t here, and most definitely not while I’m holding in this much pee,” he emphasized with a full-body potty dance.

The Alpha rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, come _on_ , Stiles,” she sighed and plopped back down onto the sofa. “You need as much preparation as possible. I remember how discombobulated my Mom was when she was pregnant with Derek and Cora. It was absolutely exhausting,” she began as she reached for her warmed booze.

Stiles squinted his eyes in confusion, “weren’t you, like…four?”

Laura turned to him with cheeks full of wine, looking like a chipmunk storing food for an impending hibernation. She gulped plentifully before choking out a, “so?”

The next five minutes have Stiles competing in a staring contest with oblivion before breaking the sudden silence. “You know,” he tells, “sometimes, I get these _really_ vivid dreams.”

“Yup. Comes with bein’ preggers,” she yawns and attempts to poke his hardening belly.

He smacks her hand away with the swiftness only a mother protecting their cub could contain. “ _But_ ,” he counters, “I think it’s different. I’ve had them since before I was pregnant.

And although they’ve been discussing it and he’s been _living_ it for four months, he still isn’t used to saying it. The pregnant thing. “The dreams are like…visions? I don’t know. It’s just...Mama had them before she passed.” He isn’t used to saying that either. “Told me we have special dreams."

Laura’s eyes transitioned from their sorrowful, sympathetic look to a look of curiosity. “Who? Omegas?” She asked with a tilt of the head.

“Uh-uh. The Gajos’. That was Mama’s maiden name. She had those dreams, too.” Stiles’s whiskey eyes clouded with something that could only be described as nostalgia.

“Stiles?” Laura asked, interrupting the Omega’s minor flashback, “you gonna tell me about the your visions?”

“Sure.” He gets comfortable on his back and bends his legs so that his sock-covered feet are rested on Laura’s. The leather of the couch squeaked as Stiles settled. He closed his eyes and exhaled steadily, trying to think.

“I can only remember little bits and pieces of each one,” he starts, “but I know that they all have to do with James.” His hand freezes on his belly after he realizes what he's said.

“Who the hell is James? Is there someone else besides Derek?” And Laura’s eyebrows do the thing again.

“James.” Stiles whispers , and sat up to pull Laura’s hand into his and onto his stomach, an ever-growing pink, powdery tint on his cheeks. “My dreams tell me that it's a boy...I've been thinking of the name James. Do you...think Derek will like it?”

The look plastered on Laura’s face was elation; Stiles was finally recognizing the baby as something _real_.

“Well, as long as you don't name the baby Mieczysław Junior, I'm sure Derek will love it.”

Stiles laughed so heartily, he ended up peeing on himself, which resulted in crying in him crying for “ruining the couch.” And then he screamed at Laura for laughing and stormed up the stairs and into bed. That time, she didn’t stop him.

He woke up to Derek settling into bed behind him. He sagged into his Alpha arms and preened when he felt a wet kiss messily toppled on his hairline.

**

 

“Hey, Cupcake.”

Stiles stares ahead of him with wide eyes, seemingly starstruck. He hasn’t seen Laura in years, not since the falling out with the Cora and Derek. His eyes shift to Jamie, who looked as ready to jump into Stiles’s arms and Stiles was to grab him. Laura hasn’t seen Jamie since his second birthday, when Stiles was seventeen. She'd seen pictures as he'd grown over the years, but.

Laura hadn't changed, albeit the light shades of black under each eye and the neck-length haircut.

“What are you doing here?” He interrogates, speaking to Laura, yet looking at Jamie, unable to remove his eyes from his baby boy.

“We came to see how you were doing. Jamie was hanging out with Scott and came to see Melissa. Help out a bit.”

And, what the _fuck?_

“We missed you, Stiles.” She stands with the child in her arms, heels clicking on the ceramic tiles. “He's missed you.”

And when Stiles really thought about it, he hadn’t communicated with his son in nearly three weeks. Jamie's been passed from person to person. He's scared, doesn't know what's going on and isn't at home with his toys and favorite snacks anymore. His mother’s been ignoring him, and his father’s become stranger

  
Everything became quiet. The TV in the room was off, as usual, but the halls were mysteriously silent. When Stiles was pregnant with Jamie, he was suspiciously larger than an average one-child Omega pregnancy, but growing up, Jamie had always been smaller than the other kids—his chubby cheeks made up for everything. Now, looking at him, Stiles felt as though Jamie grew before his eyes.

Tears welled up in the Omega’s eyes and began streaming steadily on his cheeks. Jamie mewled, struggling out of his Aunt’s arms and stepping onto the hospital bed with tiny feet. Stiles’s world blurred to the point where he could only see his son. His throat was burning from the sobs he choked out, and he hugged his child with all the strength he could muster.

“Where’s Derek?” He sniffs wetly when he lifts his face from the crevice of Jamie’s neck. His eyes squint slightly at the feeling of Jamie’s sharp nails grasping at his shoulders from the mention of his father.

“I-I don’t know.” Laura tries her best to keep her face steal, which isn’t hard, considering she’s a Hale, but Stiles can see the confusion trying to break through.

_“Damn it,”_ Stiles grinds out. “I am _so_ sick and tired of all this _bullshit_.” Hundreds of fleeting thoughts slam in and out of Stiles’s mind suddenly, like poetry. “I just want everything to be over. I want my family back, I want my friends back, and I want my life back. I just want everything to stop.”

Stiles needs to contact whoever’s been shampooing Jamie’s hair, because it was sweet enough to cause a harsh wave of sensitivity for both his and Jamie’s noses. _He needs his milk and oatmeal_ , Stiles thinks as he buries his head again.

“Hey!” Laura barks, causing Stiles to jump slightly. “I’ve known you for a lifetime, and I have _never_ seen you feeling sorry for yourself. So don’t start now. Especially not when you have people who need you,” she said, beckoning to the little boy with sandy brown hair, similar to his mother’s.

To be truthful, Stiles had never felt sorry for his self because he was too busy feeling for others. It was just in is nature.

“I’m just sick of being out of options. It turns out you really can lose everything in a matter of days. I’m afraid my mind is next,” Stiles whispers.

Laura steps closer and lifts Stiles’s chin using her finger. “You know you have always options, Stiles,” her emerald eyes sink into his, almost possessively. They hold a staring contest before Stiles gives in.

“No.” Stiles says it like it’s final, and Laura sighs heavily. “I don’t.”

“Scott’s still here,” Laura changes the topic. “He’s in the hallway helping his mom with some stuff.”

“Has he been listening in the whole time?” Stiles asks, a bit taken aback by the quickness of the subject change.

Laura grimaces, and that’s all Stiles needs to know.

“Scott, get in here,” he commands.

Scott comes in with hair perfectly gelled back, dressed as if he was going on a date that was _just_ under “formal” scale.

“Hey, buddy,” he whispers quietly. And, why? Stiles doesn’t know seeing as how he and Laura had been talking pretty loudly. Stiles smiles at him. Jamie is asleep at this point, and Stiles puts Jamie’s tiny hand into his and waves towards Scott, causing him to laugh. Stiles hasn’t felt this content in a while. All he needed was Derek to be there. When he brings Derek up to Scott, he receives the same answer he got from Laura.

Stiles sighs and sits back, bringing Jamie with him and allowing him to spread on his torso. Soon, though, he sighs and asks either Scott and Laura to hold him. Stiles hasn’t felt clean enough to fully engage yet.

“So, aren’t you starting your therapy session today?” Scott asks brightly, lugging Jamie into his arms.

“Which one?” Stiles questions back solemnly.

The rooms was, again, silent.

 

 

Derek is fucking furious. It hasn’t been a full twenty-four hours since Stiles told him what he’d dreaded to hear. _Pregnant._ Not only was Derek full of spite, but his wolf was restless, too. For once, though, Derek may have contained more rage than the beast inside of him. Going back to the house he built a family in was a complicated endeavor. It was still marked off as a pending investigation site, and no one was allowed to stay in yet.

Derek was shifted in his wolf form. Currently, there were no detectives at the house. He whined audibly, finally allowing it sink in that the home he built from the ground with Stiles, the home he and Stiles both filled with heirlooms of their families, collectibles and keepsakes. He remembers how scared Stiles was when raising Jamie alone at his childhood home before Derek stepped in. He also remembers how happy Stiles was when he father allowed him to move in with Derek. The baby, around seven months, had, had chubby thighs and cheeks that rounded jollily when entering the house.

Now, those memories couldn’t be brought up without thinking of the nightmares.

Derek sniffed around in his wolf form. He didn’t have the key to the house on-hand, but he caught something on the perimeter that made him snuffle. A sweet smell, one he recognized, littered the grass. He hadn’t noticed the smell before, considering the pack was constantly around in their backyard and Stiles always smelled sweet, but it also had a hint of bitterness laced to it; the kind of smell that meant jealousy and vengeance. He tries to follow the path, but loses the track now and again. It doesn’t follow the road, it goes into the woods. He doesn’t realize it when he starts growling and his hackles spike up. The smell grows sourer as he crosses through neighborhood alleys and back into the thick brush of the forest.

Derek halts as he reaches another opening. His black fur staunch, his eyes a ruby red. The scent stops abruptly at a neighborhood full of condominiums. He’s been here few times, only to pick minor things up for Stiles when he didn’t feel like leaving the house or to pick Jackson up for training.

This is where Lydia Martin lives.

He begins to think about what Stiles told him the first time he woke up with enough lucidity to speak after the assault.

_Lydia._

He doesn’t know what any of this means, and it’s dark by the time he leaves to go back to the sheriff’s house for a change of clothes.

 

 

 

When Derek pulls into the hospital parking lot, he feels low and unfaithful for leaving his mate in such a vulnerable condition, alone…again. It’s and dark for a summer night. There are thick cumulonimbus clouds littering the sky that indicate harsh weather soon. Instantly recognizing Scott’s bright green motorcycle in a lot, he recovers a bit. He was never good with expressing himself with others, really. Only with Stiles did he let his real self show through. Now, he couldn’t even do that without impulsively running ramped through the streets of Beacon Hills County, only to turn up with nothing but a scent that deemed useless so far. Derek opened glass doors to one of the entrances to the hospital. It was quiet and busy on the bottom floor, but Stiles was on the third in the back. Derek waited for the elevator to come down and pressed the button for the right floor. He heard it before he saw it.

 

Yelling.

 

_Screaming._

Jamie.

 

The few seconds it took for the elevator doors to gently slide open as if there were nothing urgent going on behind them seemed like lifetimes to Derek. In the waiting room, not only did he see Jamie, with a scarlet, tear-stained face, but he saw _Laura_ , looking at him frantically and fearfully as if she saw a phantom. His feet squeaked on the tiled floors when he paused to look at her when another scream echoed wildly through the hospital. Derek sprinted into the room and saw his husband on the floor with his face scrunched up, looking as red and scrunched up as Jamie did the day he was born. Nurses and doctors were everywhere, including Melissa. They were all trying to grab Stiles and restrain him. Crescents of blood took up the space under his nails. Derek was heartbroken as he watched the episode before him. The nurses were discussing what to sedate him with and where. Derek tried to reach Stiles, tried to give him something to anchor himself with when he realized what was happening. Stiles’s hospital gown was pulled up, stretched and ripped. It revealed parts of his belly that were newly scratched and were lined dotted with blood.

The Alpha stood horrified. He witnessed the nurses discuss giving him a weak sedative so that he wouldn’t fall asleep completely, or at least for a while. His shower from minutes ago was useless as he began to sweat with the intensity of the room.  
  
“What the fuck is happening?!” Derek turned and saw John dash his way into the room with his deputy Jordan Parrish following quickly behind. Derek tried to swallow enough spit so that he could explain at least a little of what he heard from the nurses’ chatter, but wasn’t able to say anything. He wasn’t even able to explain the scars on Stiles’s stomach because…they’d vanished. No bandages or gauze were applied. They were just _gone._

Derek paled even further. He was completely out of the loop. This was his husband. His _mate._ The love of his life. He couldn’t do anything to help him.

Stiles was still crying, high-pitched heavily with tears and snot running and mixing down his face. Derek’s wolf howled inside, but he couldn’t move.

“Get the hell out of the way, Derek,” John shouldered by him with a fiery expression. The Alpha had never seen his father-in-law looking so upset with him. The lights in the room seemed to fluctuate between growing extremely bright to terribly dim. Derek’s eyes went out of focus. He sat down in one of the many chairs that were in Stiles’s designated room, and held his head in his hands, letting darkness take over him, if just for a little bit.

Before he completely blacked out, he heard a soft mantra of words…

_“I don’t want it, I don’t want it…”_

Derek woke up seemingly minutes later when all the nurses had filed out of the room and back to their respective positions. Stiles was back in bed, leaning against his father, still huffing gently. John was holding back a few tears himself, but kept them in as he rubbed Stiles’s back up and down.

“Everyone went home,” John whispered quietly to Derek. “Jamie left with Melissa, of course and,” John sighed, rubbing a hand down his face and brushing Stiles’s bangs back against his forehead. “Stiles needs his sleep.”

It was evident that Stiles wasn’t going to sleep yet. His red-bitten bottom lip was quivering harshly as he sucked in air that seemed limited.

John motioned for Derek to come over. He waited about ten minutes until Stiles began to nod off. He was receiving fluids through an IV, because he obviously wouldn’t be eating.

“Switch with me, son.” John said gravelly as he urged Derek to take his place in holding Stiles. Derek obliged, and it felt so good to be holding Stiles again.

“Look,” John sighed. “I’m not going to lecture you. I’m not going to tell you what you already know. I can see the misery in your face. I get it. When Claudia was in the hospital, I was the same way. I felt trapped in my own skin.” He paused for a minute. “You have to realize…they’re feeling it ten times worse.”

Derek nodded, understanding everything John was saying and his implied message. _I trusted you to take care of my son and yours. Do it._

“What…happened?” Derek finally asked. His voice was rough from under-use. He hadn’t spoken since being in full shift.

John’s lips pursed and he looked at his feet. “Stiles tried to hurt himself. The baby.”

Derek stared hard. He figured that’s why Stiles had the blood under his nails, but he didn’t know what started it.

“Why? Did he have a nightmare?” Derek sounded breathless as he tried to think what could have triggered it. He was kidding himself, because in reality, anything could have triggered it. The smallest thing. “He was getting _better.”_

“Son, no he wasn’t.” John sat down in the chair Derek had previously sat in.

“He was going to his physical therapy session. Scott was going to accompany him since you ran off.” That hit Derek hard in the chest. “He tried getting off the bed on his own and ended up falling. He was fine, but when he stood up again…he was walking. He was walking perfectly. We couldn’t figure out why. Someone came in and checked him. Asked a few questions about his…assault. He couldn’t remember anything.”

They were quiet for a moment until John continued. “Look at him Derek, he’s fine. His bruises are practically gone.” Derek turned to look at Stiles. His face was pink and raw from crying earlier, but the bruises under his eyes were gone like John said before. “The doctors think that whatever Alpha…hurt him…took his memories. It took a while for him to heal, but him being hurt further, like when he fell today, just triggered the healing process for whatever reason.”

“What does all that mean?” Derek asked urgently, yet quietly, feeling smooth puffs of air on his neck that Stiles’s emitted every few seconds.

“Jesus. I haven’t had a case like this in decades,” John inhaled largely before finally revealing what he knew. He looked Derek square in the eye. “Whoever this Alpha is…has some sort of control over Stiles somehow. It also means that, that baby isn’t yours…and you’re no longer Stiles’s only Alpha, Derek...”

_“And we need to find that bastard.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor, poor Stiles. I'm so happy I got this updated. I promised more Lydia, but it'll be in the next chapter! And, yes, canonically Claudia's maiden name was "Gajos." John's canon name is Noah, but whatever :P  
> [GUYS! Send me prompts!!! I want to start a series! Send them to me on tumblr @Jewicer, I'm up for anything!]


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